


Himmeløyne

by scribeofmorpheus



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Death, Dream Sex, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Gen, Heimdall is a Dad?, Jealous Loki (Marvel), Magic, Magic-Users, Magical Artifacts, Magical Tattoos, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, NSFW, Norsk | Norwegian, Other, POV Loki (Marvel), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secrets, Set in the Past, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Themes of war, Tragedy, Violence, Wet Dream, eventual NSFW, pre MCU, translations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-05-31 14:11:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19427575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribeofmorpheus/pseuds/scribeofmorpheus
Summary: Premise:What does a Norse trickster god, a village massacre, a life long secret and a now forgotten past have in common? Nothing, except for the young witch at the centre of it all, with the eyes that change with the sky.Being Edited





	1. A Song of Foresight

**Author's Note:**

> This series is ONGOING!
> 
> **Translations in Italics from Norwegian**
> 
> Tumblr [**Masterlist**](https://scribeofmorpheus.tumblr.com/post/185640896300/scribesmasterlist)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **NOTE:**   
>  _Thanks to the amazing[@mejohanssonwrites](https://tmblr.co/mqYmgkoEOh9dumDXr1pm4yQ) for helping me with the translations! I have made slight alterations to the Norwegian dialogue and I cannot express how much I appreciate someone taking time to help me and my little blog along! You the best xx._   
> 

**~Trønsberg, Norway 1065AD -** _A Hundred Years after the Battle of Tønsberg_

A glimmer of magnificent colours spilt through a hole in the sky. When the glass like visage ended, a man dressed in glimmering armour -adorned with a two-horned helmet and a sweeping cape- stood at the centre of a runic pattern that had been scorched into the earth.

In one hand he held a stave and in the other, an ornate box carved from wood. There was a small symbol carved into the box: eight arms spread outward from a circular focal point.

With a shimmer of brilliant light, the man’s otherworldly clothes dissipated, only to be replaced by humble rags. The man stepped away from the cliff face, making his way downhill to what appeared to be a small fishing village.

* * *

**~Trønsberg, Norway 1265AD**

You and your mother lived in seclusion, away from the rest of your Nordic tribe. Your little stone and wood hut was built close to the village cliff face, overlooking the frosty glazed tundra’s -a view you had spent hours marvelling at since childhood.

You loved spending hours imagining trekking up those dangerous snow-covered slopes in order to get to the summit where, in your mind, you would shout out to the heavens and the stars and they, in turn, would hear you and thunder back words of praise and acknowledgement.

Your life was a hard one. Everything you had, from the furs you slept on to the fish you ate, you had either earned through hard sweat or fought for.

This life, this simplistic life, was not for everyone. This hard life had calloused your hands, making it so they would not bleed as easily, and it had worked your legs to the point you could fortify yourself when a sword crashed against your shield. Barely into your mid-twenties and your life had already sharpened you to a bleeding edge. You were a survivor, but you were also an outsider since birth.

Your mother was a crone, one blessed with foresight. Her abilities presented themselves when she read the future in the raven bones and spoke in tongues as a conduit to the stars. Many respected and feared her. They believed her to be a sign of divine intervention, declaring her a blessed one -proof that the heavens were not empty and Odin looked down on you all.

As will all power that evokes otherness, with such important responsibility came a deep reverence. Worse yet, a stigma. Despite being a part of the tribe, the both of you were also apart from the tribe.

Being one from her blood, you had inherited an ability all your own, though it was much weaker. It presented itself as a sixth sense. Beginning with a tingle that would rush up your spine and then finishing with the draining of blood from your cheeks. On restless days, dark days, your blood would sometimes turn to ice in your veins, prompting shivers to chatter at your teeth. It was an early warning system, a deeply disturbing sense that warned when danger was near. Where your mother read raven bones, your body fortold of the rising of a bad omen.

These abilities usually affording you some fearful glances, sometimes coupled with rigid nods of respect. Everyone in the village kept a safe distance from you and your mother, unless they sought you out of their own volition seeking guidance and sage counsil.

However, this wasn't all that was special about your bloodline -about you. As odd as it seemed in face of premonition and foresight, what stood out about the women in your family was the colour of their eyes. The colour of your eyes.

Azure was the colour of your eyes. The colour of the sky, clear and strikingly bright. It was this notable trait that afforded the women of your family the title of Himmel Kvinner; Women of the Sky -even though it was a title sparsely used. Instead, your family had adopted the name Himmeløyne. But your eyes were different than the women of your family, just slightly. A ring of gold enveloped your iris. It had an odd behaviour to it. some days it shimmered and glowed like something otherworldly, almost molten. Dancing as though the gold was alive with wondrous secrets.

Your mother used to say she could see the whole universe in your eyes. Something you shared with your father. A man you never knew. But that wasn't all he had bestowed upon you. You didn't resemble many of your kin with skin less fair and hair less tame. Whenever you asked your mother about him she would say he came from the heavens and that he had loved her an eternities worthwhile in a mortals world. She had told you he was quiet and stoic, a man whose truest thoughts were never spoken aloud but realised with his gaze alone.

* * *

The day began like any other. You had spent the early mornings fishing by the stream, and once you had scaled and cleaned the fish you went on your way to gather wood for the fires. While wondering the woods you ran into a familiar group of curious children who made sure to keep a good distance between you and them.

Like hunters eyeing a prized elk, they followed you from one edge of the woods to another, tittering from delight at getting to steal a glance of your face. On occasion, you would let the children get close before scaring them with playful shouts. They would scream and run for cover behind large tree trunks, shivering one instant only for laughter to follow abruptly afterwards. It was a secret game you played with them. A game you hoped would allow them to grow out of their fear of you. As a child, you had hated being seen as the witch in the woods. Children could be mean, and fear could be a terrible teacher. An unpleasant memory from those years and the scar above your brow ensured you'd never forget the power fear could have over people. 

As you bent down to pluck some wildflowers growing next to a berry thicket, you heard the voices of several men making their way into the village from a successful hunt. Cautiously, you ducked low, hiding behind the thicket -not because you were afraid they'd see you, but because you wanted to know what they talked about when they weren't aware of your presence.

"I kveld skal vi spise som konger!" One of the hunters exclaimed proudly.

_Tonight, we shall feast like kings!_

"Ikke hvis Olav får hendene på villsvinet først! Han er større enn Inger! Og hun spiser for to! " Another said with a hearty laugh.

_Not if Olav gets his hands on the boar first! He's larger than Inger! And she's eating for two!_

You recognised who they were talking about. Olav was the chief's oldest son, as well as his burliest. Even though you'd never been invited to a banquet, your mother had, and from what you knew from her stories, the hunter's rendition of Olav was spot on. Feeling courageous, you peeked over the thicket until your nose tickled the line of leaves where the bush stopped.

"Ja, men han gjør absolutt ingenting! Han bare spiser og driter. Vedder på at han ikke klarer å få’n opp for kona!" The tallest of the hunters said, his hand rubbing at his groin mockingly.

_Yes, because he does absolutely nothing! All he does is eat and shit! I bet he can't even get it up for his wife!_

The hunters laughed.

A stout hunter with braided red hair turned and huffed at the joke, his tone slightly wistful, "Hva jeg ville gitt for å stikke den i henne." He sighed as though he were some forlorn lover.

_What I would give to stick it to her._

The rest of the men playfully slapped his back and bellowed in laughter.

With the hunters now ahead of you, you decided to sneak after them. Their strange comradery and energy drawing you near them. You wanted to hear more, to see more, to know what it was like to live with them, not just near them.

"Forsiktig nå, Bjørn, sånn som du holder på kommer du til å bli far til halve landsbyen!" The youngest hunter teased.

_Careful Bjørn, at this rate you'll father half the village!_

The red-haired hunter -Bjørn- grumbled something like an insult and stomped over to the younger, smaller hunter. He looked as though he were about to throw his fists at the blonde boy, but instead, he wrangled him in a headlock and ruffled his short curls roughly. The young hunter protested against Bjørn's large arms, but his grip seemed impregnable. The rest of the men laughed as they watched their two friends tousle about.

You gasped in shock, setting your half stocked basket on the ground and trotting near a large tree to get a better peak. A scamper of tiny feet sounding out behind you.

After a few tumbles on the ground, the younger hunter finally yielded and tapped Bjørn's arms, "Jeg gir opp! Jeg gir opp!"

_I give up! I give up!_

Bjørn released his grip and staggered to his feet. Patting the young hunter with a satisfied grin on his face, "Ikke alle kan være like kjekk som deg, Baldrick. Det er derfor vi har stygge sønner; for at du ikke skal stjele alle damenes hjerter."

_Not all of us can be as pretty as you, Baldrick! That's why we have to have ugly sons to keep you from stealing all the women's hearts!_

"Ja, ja!" Baldrick sighed in annoyance. His cheeks were red with defeat. He kicked the dirt around him as the men continued their trek.

_Yes, yes!_

That had been enough excitement for the day. You stood out from behind the tree and went to retrieve your basket. As you picked your basket and turned to leave, your foot stepped on a twig and the crunching snap it made echoed around you. You gulped, afraid that maybe the hunters had heard you. A thought that was instantly confirmed when the sound of their laughter and banter faded behind you. Surrounded by dead silence, you remembered something your mother had said when she had caught you stealing berries from the winter stores, "Hvis du ser skyldig ut, er du skyldig. Selv om du ikke er det."

_If you look guilty, then you are guilty. Even if you aren't._

So, you straightened your spine, relaxed your eyes and pulled a sweet smile across your face, turning to face the men as though _they_ had been the ones to disturb your walk. You tilted your head slightly and strolled to another patch of wildflowers.

The men gave you a nod out of courtesy and continued walking, albeit much quieter than before. You noticed the youngest hunter -Baldrick- sneak defiant looks your way, smiling more and more each time. When you smiled back, he beamed with a toothy grin that he tried to hide from the rest of his company. You felt your cheeks begin to grow hot and you didn't understand why.

The sound of children giggling behind you alerted you to the fact your little friends had returned. Feeling a little mischievous, you hooked an eyebrow up and turned swiftly in an effort to spook them.

"Raaaaah!" You shouted.

The kids screamed just as expected and scattered away from you with bubbly laughter. You watched them run to the group of hunters.

A young lass, around four or five, stopped for a moment to give you a clumsy wave.

You paused, holding your breath.

That was the first time anyone had regarded you so openly... so warmly. When the child waved at you, there was no fear in her eyes, only genuine happiness.

Reluctantly, you smiled back at her, slowly picking up your arm to wave back. When Baldrick looked back, possibly to sneak another look, he saw the young girl standing still and waving at you, his grin returning. He held out his hand and called after the little girl, "Sigrid, kom."

 _Sigrid_ , your smile grew. That was your mother’s name.

The little girl was ushered out of her daze and trotted after Baldrick, taking his large hands into her two small ones. Soon the group of children and hunters disappeared from your line of sight and you began to make your way back home with the supplies you gathered. All the while, an odd feeling began to settle inside your stomach. It made your nerves tingle and your spine shiver.

When the sun was at its peak, you had decided to go down to your favourite cavern. There was a hidden hot spring there and you were in need of a bath. As you were preparing your satchel with the necessary herbs for aroma, your mother walked into the hut with a worrying expression on her face.

"Mor er alt okay?" You asked her with worry clearly showing on your usually stoic face.

_Mother, is everything okay?_

The lines on your mothers face creased as she smeared on a pained smile, her eyes on you but her thoughts elsewhere. She placed a reassuring hand on your cheek and a warm kiss on your forehead.

"Ja, kjære, alt kommer til å ordne seg ,"she said softly before she took her leave and sat on the furs by the fire. The embers casting bright colours onto her aged face in a splendid kaleidoscopic show.

_Yes, my daughter. Everything will be alright._

There was that feeling gnawing at your stomach again. It made you unsteady and lightheaded. The world seemed to tilt about like a boat swaying helplessly against the unforgiving waves of the sea. It was the feeling of dread. The feeling of a bad omen approaching.

Thinking yourself simply more wired than usual, you had cast those unwelcome feelings aside. You took solace in the fact your mother had shown no signs of fear, only distraction. And if the crone of the village was not in a panic, then there was no reason for her daughter to be.

She took out her black leather pouch filled with raven bones and runes and tossed them onto the floor. As her slender, wrinkly digits hovered over the bones, you caught a glimpse of the Ægishjalmar branded onto her forearm. A brand you now bore too. You asked her once what its purpose was, why it was carved into the door of your house, all she said was that it protected the source of your power. A rite of passage.

With your mother focused on the task at hand, you thought it best to leave her be. Now was not the time for interruption, not while she was summoning her powers of foresight.

You grabbed your stave and an extra cover of furs as you made your way out of the hut. Before you were out of earshot, you heard your mother whisper to herself once more, " Ja, kjære, alt kommer til å ordne seg..."

It was a steep climb to get up to the cavernous space where the hot spring was hidden. Not many knew of it, which meant it was the perfect place to be alone with your thoughts. As you made the climb, something strange occurred, a powerful surge rippled below your feet, shaking the trees and the dirt around you. In the distance, a bright blue light flashed. It came from the same direction as your home. When you looked back to get a better view, you were relieved to see nothing amiss. Still, something felt odd.

 _It must have been my imagination_ , you thought when everything had returned to normal. You kept on your way.

Once inside the dimly illuminated cave, you stripped off your clothes and poured a handful of herbs and essences into the bath waters to fill the air with the sweet yet earthy smell that you loved. You then slid your aching body into the waters, letting the heat untangle all the knots and tightness from your muscles. With heavy lidded eyes, your fingers tracing the lines of your brand absentmindedly.

The silence in the cave was almost euphoric. The feeling of letting all worries and burdens go turning you lighter than air -retirement from the uneasy feeling that had been slowly building inside you all day. Before long you had lost yourself in that feeling and you fell asleep within the waters. You would not awaken until your skin pruned and the aurora touched the evening sky. Realising just how much time had passed, you grew nervous and began to hastily gather your things.

"Mor vil bli misfornøyd," you whispered to yourself knowingly.

_Mother won't be happy._

Just before you reached the exit of the cave, something green and bright caught your attention. You followed after it, unable to ignore the urge to know what it was. When you got close enough to see, you realised it was a snake. Small and unthreatening.

It had curled itself into a knot, unable set itself loose. Its scales were the most brilliant shade of green you had ever seen. Darker than the pine forests to the south of your village, yet somehow, also brighter than the summer grass that grew on the lower fjelds.

Without much thought for your own wellbeing, you picked up the snake and helped it uncoil itself. It's slippery form twisting itself playfully around your open palms. You let out a soft laugh as you watched the colours from the night sky dance and bound off its shiny scales as though it were made of crystals.

"Du er så vakker, lille grønn," you told the snake, knowing full well it did not understand the common tongue.

_You are so beautiful, little green._

The snake uncharacteristically lifted its head and stared straight into your eyes. Its eyes seemed to mesmerise you because you had lost all sense of time. Sound had been blocked out of your ears and all light had been leeched away from your vision, leaving only the bluish-green colour of the snake’s eyes in your vision.

It wasn't until you heard a thunderous noise echo through the cavern that you broke free from the trance. Fear and panic once again took root in your stomach as you scurried to race after the sounds of screams and battle cries and shields breaking.

The snake tightened its grip on your hands. It was terribly strong for such a small, inconsequential creature. You mustered all your strength and pooled it around your bound hands. The snake's scales cracked and strained against the tension.

The sounds of the battle in the distance grew lower and lower with each passing moment. Your mind kept going back to that look on your mother's face and the last words she spoke before you left.

_Ja, kjære, alt kommer til å ordne seg._

You fought against the snake's grip even harder. Twisting and turning your wrists and arms and elbows, trying to find an opening. It felt futile.

Another thunderous crash echoed through the cavern and this time the screams that followed were louder.

Who did those screams belong to? Was it the pretty faced Baldrick who made your cheeks flush earlier? Perhaps it was the stout and burly, Bjørn wielding his trusty axe as he rushed forward with a resounding battle cry.

Your heart was racing, your palms sweating and your chest constricting.

What was happening in your village? Were you under attack? Was your mother safe?

All you knew was that you needed to stop speculating and find a way to loosen the snake’s hold of you. Almost as though your unspoken desires had been heard y the gods, the snake's grip seemed to be falter. Using anger and fear to fuel your strength, your muscles broke free from its coiled form. However your freedom came at a price. The snake had opened its jaws, extended its fangs and sunk them into your flesh. Warm venom oozing into your veins like honey.

If the venom was poisonous you couldn't tell. Not just as yet. You threw the snake back where you had picked it from and raced back out of the cavern. You ran down the slope as you saw grey smoke crawl over the treeline. You raced passed the trees, seeing a myriad of broken shields and bloodied snow. Ash grew thicker and hotter the closer you got to the village. An ember flew into your eye and scorched it. Ignoring the pain, you kept racing passed the longhouse where you saw the entire village afire.

For as far as the eye could see lifeless bodies covered the white snowy ground, blood and soot turning it a sludgy consistency. They appeared to be struck down by frostbitten wounds. Your mind went numb, unable to process the carnage and death spread out across your feet. Sagging and limp, your body began to grow heavy. It was unclear whether it wwas from the venom or seeing this horror unfolding around you. 

Shrouded by the wall of flames, you saw giant men wielding jagged swords that looked nothing like steel. Their weapons buried themselves within the helpless villagers you had once wished to have known better. You clenched your fists, fighting the urge to turn to stone in the very spot.

You had to keep going.

As you forced your legs to work, you instinctively began to search the faces of the scattered bodies in the snow; searching for all the faces you had grown to know the names of. You held your breath in anticipation of the sorrow that would follow once you saw their faces. Would it hurt more than what you felt now? Could it? After all, even if you never broke bread with any one of them, or traded jokes after a day’s work, they were still your people and you were one of them. You always had been. And now… Now they were all dead. When everything seemed to be at its bleakest, a spark of hope lit up inside you. Maybe, just maybe, not all of them were dead.

You raced to the edge of the cliff face where your hut was. Your legs beginning to waver and shake helplessly. When you got over the hill between the village and your hut, your blood went cold as you helplessly watched your house burn to the ground. A scream rippled out from your lungs, piecing the eerie quiet that now hung over your village.

Utterly defeated, you fell to your knees. The venom began to take effect, making its way into your heart. Your arm clenched around your left breast as the world began to spin around you. Your vision blurred over and your body felt like a sack of potatoes falling onto the soft snow.

 _Ja, kjære, alt kommer til å ordne seg.._.

As you began to lose consciousness, a giant with blue skin walked towards you. He looked upon your chest and when he realised you still drew breath, he raised his sword and buried it into your right lung. When he removed it from its temporary home, a pool of blood spurt from your body as you felt your lung fill with your own blood, drowning you from the inside-out.

The pain was beyond excruciating, but somehow it was nothing compared to the feeling of loss that clung to your entire body.

Your head rolled lifelessly to the side. Unable to close your eyelids, you were forced to watch in eternal silence as the flames continued to devour your home. Your lungs were on the verge of collapsing when, suddenly, a beautiful collage of striking colours rained down around you. It was like being under a melting rainbow. And despite the fact the tips of your fingers were bluer than they had ever been, you felt warm.

Memories came to life around you. The image of you and your mother drinking ale beside the fire. The young girl, Sigrid, waving at you with a tender smile. The hunters laughing as they carried their boar to the village. You as a child with blood running down your face from where another child has thrown a rock at you. The green snake coiling around you.

And then… everything went black.

* * *

~ **HEIMDALL**

Heimdall, the ever watchful eye, stood on his observation platform. His sword placed firmly within the bridges helm. As he watched over all nine realms he sensed strange activity on Midgard. He focused his sight, conjuring the dark magic’s to help him better see what was unfolding. When he saw the familiar wisp of Jotun magic leave its tell-tale tear within the seams of the universe, Heimdall's grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, his breathing turned purposeful.

The Frost Giants had travelled to Midgard, but Heimdall could not see where to. His sight was obscured by something, by another source of magic. Asgardian magic.

It was disconcerting, the fact he had never sensed this magical signature until now. It felt primaeval, ancient. Where ever it came from, it had managed to stay hidden for an unknowable amount of time.

 _Why is it making itself known now?_ He wracked his mind for answers it could not possibly have.

A garrison of royal guards came riding down the bifrost accompanying the Allfather and his youngest son, Loki.

"My King," Heimdall bowed as he still gripped the hilt of his sword.

"Heimdall, open the bifrost, the Jotun’s have attacked a village on Midgard," Odin ordered. Beside him, Loki rubbed his wrists, faint markings hidden beneath his long sleeves.

For all of Loki's cunning, Heimdall could tell that he was bothered by something. His eyes looked out into nothing, his presence whole fully distant from everything around him.

"But my King, I have seen no such attack," Heimdall said.

"But you felt it, yes?" Loki asked, his inquisitive eyes possessing knowledge he should not have, "The shift in the realms when they used their magic to travel to Midgard?"

Heimdall eyed the dark prince with a weary expression. "Yes…" was all he said before he sheathed his sword completely into the hilt at the eye of the bifrost and turned it clockwise.

The bridge between realms ripped the seams of the universe open and trailed a path of magnificent colours down to Midgard.

Odin and his guard stepped through, but he had not permitted the young prince to follow. Heimdall watched quietly as the young prince paced from one corner of the room to the next. His eyes squinted in deep thought while his eyebrows furrowed in silent anger. Every now and again, Loki would rub absentmindedly at his bruised wrists. Soon the All-Father returned and the bridge reopened.

Odin's head hung low, his eyes weary. The smell of smoke clung to his cloak. He looked to his son with what seemed to be regret and then he looked upon Heimdall's face. His face spoke volumes without uttering a single word. With a heavy hand placed on Heimdall's shoulder, he finally said: "Close the bifrost."

When the last of the Kings Guard crossed through, he did as his king commanded. Heimdall noticed one of the guards carried a young human woman in his arms, wrapped in the Allfather's cloak, barely alive. Her light was fading and her life would soon be forfeit. Heimdall felt his magic warded off by her own.

She was the one who had obscured his vision. Something about her felt familiar.

"Get her to the healers," Odin ordered his guards. They complied with no delays. In his peripheral, Heimdall noticed Loki let out a breath of relief as a small smile fought to make itself known. He hid it beneath a clenched jaw.

Heimdall had an uneasy feeling about this.

As soon as the girl was removed from his vicinity, the shroud that obscured part of Heimdall’s sight disappeared for good and it was like his eyes had been reopened.

Then he saw it.

The destruction previously unknown to him. All the carnage, the death… It was sickening. The soldier in him felt it was his fault, like he had failed in his duties to protect all those people.

"No," was all he had the strength to say as sorrow filled his eyes and he sunk to one knee, staying anchored only by the grip he had on his sword.

* * *

~ **ODIN**

"Will she live?" Odin demanded to know from the healers.

They were looking over the young woman’s body, a curtain of gold hovering around her as they tried to heal the wound caused by a Frost Giant's blade.

"It is too early to tell. It is unheard of for a human to survive such injuries, but we found traces of a paralytic in her body. It appears the venom slowed her heart rate and kept her alive long enough for you to bring her here for healing," the head healer informed the All-Father as she bowed respectively and took her leave to join the other healers.

Frigga joined his side, a look of wonder on her face. "There was much commotion in the palace today. Everyone is whispering about the human their king brought with him from Midgard." Her lips parted in question as she brushed her hands over her husband’s arm.

"That girl, I sense something powerful about her. She may yet survive this," Frigga said softly before turning her head to look upon Odin's face. "And you, my husband, what troubles you so?"

Odin slowly blinked his one eye, a weak smile on his lips, "Nothing you need worry about." He said before placing a kiss to her knuckles.

"Your proud brow says otherwise," she pressed, running a finger along the lines of his forehead. "Tell me."

Odin sighed, "The Jotun’s… they attacked Midgard. Loki, he- _they_ almost discovered the location of the tesseract."

" _The girl_ , “Frigga took a deep breath, "That's why Heimdall couldn't see the attack. She's one of _them_ isn't she?"

Odin glanced at the unconscious woman hovering in the air, "She is the last."

One of the healers made her way towards the Allfather, her expression grave, "Allfather, Queenmother… There is something you should know. The girl, she's- she's not entirely human." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a poll to name the protagonist linked [here!](https://www.powr.io/plugins/poll/view/20454558?mode=page)


	2. Re-Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here](https://scribeofmorpheus.tumblr.com/post/186075137745/himmel%C3%B8yne-protagonist-name-change-poll) are the poll results for the choices of protagonist names.

_**~Y/N** _

The kindling in the fireplace began to gain traction, filling the wooden walls of your home with a warm yellow glow. You were sat on the fur rug you had tanned and skinned from last winter’s hunt, a tankard of ale in your hand. Snow filled the air outside, covering everything in a surreal white sheen.

The room was as quiet as the dead. You couldn't even hear the popping and crackling of the firewood. Something didn't feel right.

“Hvordan føler du deg?” Your Mother's soothing voice spoke from beside you.

_How do you feel?_

_You turned in its direction, astonished to see her sitting on her favourite chair, smoking her pipe and filling the air with the spicy undertones of her burning herbs._

"Mor?" You asked, unsure if those words would make her disappear from you again. 

_Mother?_

She simply hummed and nodded her head slowly, her eyes still filled with that far-away look from before.

Your memories were foggy, as though a lace curtain had been drawn over your eyes obscuring the images of what you once witnessed. Somehow you knew, she wasn't supposed to be here. _You_ weren't supposed to be here.

"Men… hvordan? Du-" Your eyes narrowed as thousands of blurring images and sounds rushed across through your mind. A cacophony of avalanching turmoil sweeping through you.

_But… How? You-_

You searched your memories for answers, but all you could remember was the feeling of hot flames too close to your cold body. You instinctively shivered, noticing how unnaturally cold you were in this moment too.

“Alt brant… Jeg skjønner ikke hva som skjer!” you croaked out.

_Everything was burning… I don't understand what is happening!_

You canvased the room, trying to see if there was anything out of place, anything different. It was perfect. Exactly as you remembered it.

Like a ghost gliding on air. Your mother appeared beside you, no longer in your peripheral. She now knelt alongside you, her pipe discarded and her face possessing an unnatural glow, like the frosted mountain tops that shimmered when sunlight touched it.

In a slow mirage of after and before images, she placed a hand on your cheek and kissed your forehead like she used to when you were a child after a nightmare- except you couldn't feel her. There was no warmth in her hands. The only thing you could feel was time.

Time didn't feel fluid here. It felt splintered.

"Shh kjære, alt kommer til å ordne seg." She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

_Hush, darling. Everything will be alright._

Those words again. The manner in which she said them triggered something dormant inside you. It had the aftertaste of fear and the intoxication of unbridled anger. The memories started bleeding through as noise at first. The sound swelled into intangible impressions of people and places and smells. After a suspended moment in time, everything rushed back in distorted flashes.

Your breathing became erratic, hands shaking and yet your heart beat at a slow and drudging pace. You were lightheaded. Muscles aching to the point you thought they would tear from your bones. What was startling was that it wasn't painful. If anything, it felt as though you were restless, afraid of standing still. But you couldn't move. Time had turned the air as thick as porridge and you were drowning in an empty room.

 _Drowning… was this what it felt like?_ You clutched your breast that once housed a foreign implement. Remembering the constriction of your throat as blood pooled just close enough to the back of your mouth that you could taste it. 

“Hva skjer med meg?” You pleaded through pained rasps.

_What is happening to me?_

You Mother helped you off the ground, your tankard of ale spilling onto the white furs of your rug.

"Se på meg," she drew your gaze. "Fokuser!"

_Look at me. Focus!_

You tried to control your breathing and balled your fists to stifle the shaking. Nothing seemed to work.

The worse your episode got, the more things began to unravel. The room started to break apart. First, the wood of the walls turned into mesmerising explosions of splinters in the air. Then the fire instantly turned to ash.

The world was tilting on its axis and you fought to stay upright.

"Hva skjer med meg?" You pleaded with more urgency.

_What is happening?_

Your Mother grimaced with pity in her eyes, letting out a sombre laugh you had never heard before. "Det var dumt av meg. Jeg er for tidlig. Det er ikke tid ennå.”

_How foolish of me. It seems I am early. It is not yet time._

“Tid for hva?” The words barely made their way out of your constricting oesophagus. Mouth gulping down dizzying, ragged breaths.

_Time for what?_

Your Mother kissed both your hands and let you go, her body seemingly deteriorating with the cabin. "Ikke fykt. Vi skal se hverandre igjen”

_Don't worry. We will see each other again._

Before you could ask another question, an unseen forced ripped you through time and space, hurling you through blinding light, turning your heartbeat erratic and forcing your lungs open with cold prickly air.

* * *

Your eyes shot open. A ball of pooling blood hovering above you with a stream of red drawn from your chest where your flesh was broken apart. Your lips trembled with every inhale of excruciating breath. You were hovering above the ground, covered by golden strands of light.

You struggled against the cushion of energy that suspended you in mid-air. Confusion and unfamiliarity making you feel afraid and uncertain. All you knew for certain was that you were alive… and everyone else wasn't. 

The pain of the memories forced a harrowing scream from your mouth as tears slid down either side of your face, summoning an unfamiliar woman to side.

"You're awake," she gasped with disbelief. She hastily conjured something powerful through the room and the ball of pooling blood disappeared as she peered closer at your open wound. "Good, all the blood has been drained."

"Quickly inform the Allfather!" She commanded someone you couldn't see. Then she rushed to your side and tried to steady your restless body from its struggle. "You have to stay calm. Stress will merely delay the healing process. If you keep agitating your body with this struggle your wound will not close."

Her words were hollow echoes in your tumultuous mind. You felt overwhelmed. Everything was too much. You had to find a way to let it out. A way to be free from all this pain. As the woman tried to restrain you down, her palm applied pressure to your chest and you screamed.

Suddenly, a burst of energy clawed its way out of you and impelled the woman backwards. The residual energy shattered whatever produced the cushion you hovered over and dropped you to the ground.

You winced as your body slumped to the ground, your hand clasping at the white fabric of the intricately detailed dress you wore in a feigned effort to protect your chest from any more damage.

Being free of your suspended state, you urged your shaky feet to lift you off the ground and began to run. To where you didn't know. All you knew was that you couldn't stay still.

_**~LOKI** _

Loki leaned against the railing of a balcony overlooking the glass ceiling of the healing chambers. With curiosity in his eye, he tentatively watched the exchange between the Midgardian woman and one of the healers. When she managed to break free of the golden stream that kept her afloat, only to subsequently flinging the healer away from her with a strange burst of energy, his eyes lit up as a coy smile spread across his lips.

"Interesting," he whispered to himself as he watched her make a break for it.

Loki opened a portal and disappeared into it. Determined more than ever to stick his nose into matters that didn't concern him.

_**~Y/N** _

Your vision was burdened with seeing double as you staggered on weak legs in unfamiliar territory. Each turn you made led you to another corridor littered with endless columns and even more corners. At this point, all you wanted was to see the sun or the sky or the clouds.

"Guards! Stop her!" The feminine voice of the woman you had knocked back rang across the empty hallway.

Your head snapped back to see her pointing in your direction as men in golden armour with sharpened swords, flowing capes and horned helmets marched in your direction.

In a frenzy of fear, your legs found untapped energy and you ran even faster than before.

Like the inevitable sunrise, light started to encroach upon a darker, more open section of the hallway. It was then that you realised you had found a way to the outside world. Your pace faulted but not enough to let the guards catch up to you. You dared not look back for the sound of their boots on the hard polished stone was warning enough that they were right on your heel.

When you approached the archway, you were stunned by what the outside world had become. Gleaming towers too tall to be built by any man stood high and proud. Peaks threatening to rip a hole through the bright sky. On the ground below, water of the purest blue sparkled like crystals, making you painfully aware of your thirst. At the centre of this brilliance was a structure of pure gold, larger than life itself. And just beyond the horizon was the edge of the world. The sea cascading in the form of a brilliant and quiet waterfall. The realisation that you were no longer home on earth was a brutal punch to the stomach.

You gripped your sides as the dark cloud of despair turned everything grey.

"Easy now," a firm voice whispered as a flash of green washed over you, rendering you paralysed. Strong arms snaked around your shoulders as you fell limp against the chest of a dark-haired man dressed in rich emerald garbs. His long hair framing his face as it swayed with the pull of your body as you slinked lower.

"You're going to be alright," he reassured you. "You're a slippery one aren't you?"

He looked down at you as though you were a riddle to be solved. Curious eyes of a scholar. This was a man who delighted in the pursuit of knowledge. You could tell by the hooded look of his wandering eyes and the playful grin tugging at his thin lips.

"Where… Where am I?" Was all you could manage to say.

"You're safe," He pulled your bending spine straight. "In Asgard."

Your head fell to the side as your eyelids grew heavy. Whatever he had done to you had made you court sleep.

"Asgard?" Your words were sluggish with fatigue. "Am... I... dead?"

"Far from it."

He smiled down at you just as the sound of boots clanking against the stone stopped.

“Such peculiar eyes…” he bemused, tilting his head like a curious cat just as your vision filled with black.

_**~LOKI** _

Loki stared at the strange woman sleeping with the fragility of a newborn babe within his arms. He could have sworn that as soon as his fingers touched the exposed skin of her arm they had turned blue. After blinking a few times, he realised it must have been a trick of the light.

"My liege, is everything alright?" The guard leading the troop of soldiers asked.

Loki simply held up his hand without removing his eyes from the stranger’s face, "Everything is under control."

"Loki, what is the matter?" Frigga came rushing to his side from a blind spot down the balcony. When she caught sight of the Midgardian woman slinked limply in his arms, her eyebrows rose. "She awoke?"

"It would seem so," he replied.

"Come, son. We must get her back to the healing chambers at once," Frigga lifted her skirts and caused the guards to part like the sea.

Loki used his free arm to cradle the spot under her knees and lift her off the ground. He carried the stranger back to the room she had escaped from.

"My lady. My liege," the head healer bowed as she gave them a wide birth.

"How did the girl get free?" Frigga questioned her.

When the healer wavered for a moment, Loki spoke on her behalf, "I believe our guest may be a witch, Mother."

Loki walked passed the stream of golden strands projected through the air towards a bed and placed her upon it.

Frigga touched the girl’s hand, "Your Father will want to hear of this."

"The Allfather was already here, my lady." The healer stammered, her eyes unable to keep off the young earth-born woman for more than a few seconds at a time.

"What for?" Frigga asked.

"I'm not sure, my lady. He asked us to give him some privacy." She muttered.

Frigga pursed her lips in thought, but her brow remained calm. Then her expression changed with what Loki could only guess to be realisation. He would always admire her ability to wisely discern the likeliest of reasoning for why Odin or any of her children did the things they did.

"Come, we should return to your father. Last I left him, your brother was trying to argue for a war!" Frigga said disapprovingly as she made her leave.

Loki allowed himself one last look at the woman before him. He found it ironic that even though she looked like death itself, she was still as enchanting as the first moment he laid eyes on her.

* * *

_Loki had been bored for most of the day. Thor had spent all day off-world on a misguided errand to try and appease their father. Frigga had been otherwise preoccupied dealing with courtly duties, so Loki had nothing to do but re-read his books or practice new spells._

_While lounging within the library walls. An idea that promised mischief came to him._

_Using an old spell, Loki turned into a green snake and slithered down the green trail upon the rainbow bridge in the hopes of sneaking through the bifrost. Once Heimdall opened it to welcome Thor back, Loki slithered through, leaving everyone else none the wiser to his presence._

_When close to Midgard, Loki conjured some magic to open a pathway to earth._

_He had spent the whole day giving a group of hunters the run around by casting spells of misfortune upon their aim and vision. When he tired of such simple tricks he had decided to go take a turn about the land._

_The sound of children’s bubbly laughter caught his attention. When he got close enough to the source of this laughter his eyes caught glimpse of a beautiful woman. Her hair was wild and long, eyes as changing as the sky and in possession of such graceful motions he was sure Idunn herself would envy how the forest wildflowers came alive at her touch._

_Loki could feel something powerful about her, but more than anything, he wanted to know more about her. Her presence enchanted him to the point he had followed her into a cave under the guise of a helpless snake._

* * *

Looking back on it now, Loki realised that had been his first error in judgement.

His second had been warning his father of the Jotun attack, thereby denying her the chance to die beside her people. But something about her made his usually calculative mind more irrational. A part of Loki placed the blame on her bewildering eyes. They held a vibrancy, a clearness, that was as close to unnatural as it got.

He wanted to solve her, like some ancient puzzle waiting to be complete.

"Loki, are you coming?" Frigga asked.

As Loki turned to leave he noticed an odd brand marking on the woman's arm. It looked familiar, like something from his childhood. His brows pulled together in frustration as he searched his mind for answers.

“In a minute mother,” Loki left the intreguing woman behind but rather than follow after Frigga, he made his way to the library.

A few minutes after some unenlightening research, Loki decided to go and see what his brother and father were up to. But being a god with the flare for the dramatic, Loki decided to be sneakier about it, conjuring a portal into the throne room and staying afar.

"Father we have to attack!" Thor's voice boomed through the sparsely filled throne room. "The Jotuns massacred an entire village with no cause! The nine realms are our responsibility, we have to show them that an attack on any realm is an act of war against Asgard! With a small army, I could--"

"Enough!" Odin commanded. His stave hitting the throne room floor and echoing over Thor's shouts.

Loki watched with mild interest, leaning against a pillar out of sight.

"Always eager for a fight. One day, my son, when you are king, you will understand that war should never be a leader’s first call to action," Odin continued.

Thor was about to argue his case further but Odin raised a hand to silence him as his head hung low and his eye shut for a long moment.

Thor grew red with frustration and stormed away from the throne. Loki suppressed a catty smile as he watched his hot-headed brother skulk out of the room.

"If I may be allowed to speak, sire," Sif knelt. Her fist on her chest, saluting respectfully.

Odin gestured for her to rise, "Speak."

"I would like to be assigned to the Midgardian woman you rescued from the Jotuns."

"Why?" Odin asked.

"I believe she may be more dangerous than we first anticipated. Rumours of what happened in the healing chamber have spread. I would like to be of service in quelling any fears my Asgardian brothers and sisters may have," she replied in earnest.

"So be it," Odin agreed.

Sif bowed once again and took her leave.

Intersecting Sif's exit, the Warrior's Three walked into the room and bowed.

"My King, you called for us," Hogun announced them.

"Indeed," Odin stood from his throne. "I need you to return to the village in Trønsburg-" he conjured an ornate box using magic into his hand and handed it to the Warriors Three, “...to return this.”

"Would we be able to inquire as to the contents of the box?" Fendral asked.

Hogun and Volstagg glared at him for his rude question.

"No you may not," Odin chuckled. "Hide it somewhere safe."

The Warriors bowed once more and left without any questions.

When Odin and Frigga assumed the throne room empty, Frigga walked over to his side, placing a caring hand on his back.

"The healers told me you went to visit the earth girl," she said.

Odin nodded and let out a soft hum, "I attempted to read her thoughts."

"And?"

"She knew nothing of her origin or where her powers come from. She is all alone in this. Without a guiding hand, I fear she may be led down a dark path..."

"Perhaps she merely needs someone to show her the way?"

"Who would that be?" Odin asked with a squint of his eye.

"What of Loki?" Frigga offered.

Odin let out a deep sigh, "You know why that would be a disastrous idea."

Frigga placed her hand on Odin's chest, "You see how restless he is. This may be exactly what he needs to calm that temperament of his."

Odin rubbed at his temple, his gaze landing close to the column that was obscuring Loki’s presence.

Frigga noticed her husband’s attention pulled across the room. Her gaze followed after his and was met by the same pillar.

LNot wanting to be caught, Loki hastily materialised beside the column opposite to where he had been standing. 

"I will consider it." Odin kissed Frigga, "Now there is another matter I must attend."

After Odin disappeared, Loki used his magic to shimmer elsewhere, but not in time to avoid his mother using her own magic to counteract his.

"Eavesdropping is very rude," she chastised and Loki was forced to stay locked in his spot by her constricting spell.

"A god of mischief has a reputation to uphold," he joked as his mother closed in.

Frigga shook her head with a smile, "You are lucky your Father's thoughts were preoccupied, otherwise he would have sensed your careless magic and given you a tongue lashing. Come, let us go check on your brothers raging temper and make sure he doesn't destroy any of your grandfather’s artefacts."

"Not to sound completely unreasonable, but I'd rather cut off my own foot, thank you very much." Loki rolled his eyes.

_**~HEIMDALL** _

"The Warriors Three just left for Midgard a few minutes ago, my liege," Heimdall said when he felt the presence of the Allfather behind him.

"The universe looks so peaceful from here. Everything so small and inconsequential against the backdrop of eternal darkness," Odin said as he stood beside him.

Heimdall let out a deep hum, his gold eyes seeing everything all at once. "I wouldn't call it peaceful."

Odin brought that weary, heavy hand of his back onto Heimdall's shoulder, "I have some grave news for you, old friend."

Heimdall looked upon the Allfather's face.

"But I suspect you already know what it is I am about to tell you," Odin mused sadly. "The human girl, she possessed Asgardian blood. She is your daughter."

Heimdall felt great pain and unimaginable pride all at once. His heart was about to rip in two. The helmet on his head suddenly became too heavy for his neck to support. He took it off and placed it at his feet, taking the knee.

"Sigrid had a daughter?" He asked.

Something in Odin's features told Heimdall the question wasn't for him to answer.

Then, Heimdall whispered, " _I_ have a daughter."

_  
_


	3. Awaken, My Child

**_~HEIMDALL_ **

The stars burned with eternity's kiss, leaving colourful splashes of supernovas and violently colliding gasses across the black canvas of existence. All the while, Heimdall's eye's strained to stay open and alert.

For all his efforts in being the silent watcher, he couldn't hold the empty feeling of failure at bay. Everything around him became a muted mirage as soon as he learned the woman he once loved drew breath no longer. Worse yet, he had been too blind to realise he had a daughter. The knowledge that her energy had been masked from his sight by ancient magic’s didn't bring him comfort either.

He didn't know how to be a father. All he knew was the eternal sentence he had been charged with: to watch and protect. And in one single, magnificent instance, he had failed at both.

Heimdall had wondered many things since the Allfather had confirmed his fears. He wondered what Sigrid had named their child. He wondered what his daughter had looked like as a newborn, wrapped in a blanket all warm and small.

His daughter had been unconscious for days since her abrupt awakening. Afraid to face her on his own, Frigga had taken the initiative and assured him she'd live to see another day.

Being afraid was not something that sat well with Heimdall. That was going to end today. He couldn't cower in fear any longer. It was time he face his new reality.

Heimdall made his way to the healing chambers, his fingers absentmindedly trailing along the ridges of the braid of hair Sigrid had given him before he returned to Asgard. It was a habit that always calmed him, but lately, all it did was remind him of what he lost.

Guarding the entrance to the chamber was Lady Sif. She had an imposing expression on her features, she reminded Heimdall of how intimidating the Valkyrie's once stood; uncompromising sentries with fiery spirits.

"Heimdall?" She asked, unexpectant of his visit.

"Lady Sif," he greeted back. "May I have a moment with the Midgardian woman?"

"She still sleeps."

"I only mean to try and discover what magic’s she employed to blind me from her."

Sif looked at him hesitantly, then gave a simple, kurt nod. "I'll give you a moment."

His daughter slept, seemingly at peace, although from the way her eyelids would twitch, he could tell it wasn't a pleasant slumber.

He respectfully placed his helmet on a nearby surface before slowly encroaching towards her.

She was beautiful in a wild and fragile way. A human who embodied the spirit of a forest. He unknowingly began to reach for her, fingers trembling.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or is the great unmoving statue, Heimdall, Seer of Worlds, away from his post?" Loki's lively voice started Heimdall's hand back to his side.

Heimdall straightened his spine, "I was simply curious as to how she managed to mask herself from my eye."

"Peculiar one, isn't she?" Loki peered over his shoulder. "I must say, she caught my interests too."

Heimdall's jaw clenched, side-eyeing the dark prince, "How so?"

"A half-mortal witch, with powers unlike any we've ever seen, who doesn't know how to control her own abilities?" Loki scoffed with intrigue. "Even my mother is enchanted by her. Not to mention that pesky little brand marking."

Loki's brows furrowed in contemplation, his eyes staring at a symbol branded into her arm. It was the same symbol Sigrid had. She had told him it was a rite of passage for the women in her bloodline, but he knew better. That was Odin's symbol. Odin's magic.

Suddenly, everything fell into place. That symbol was the reason he couldn't sense her.

Heimdall's knuckles cracked from the pressure of his stone fist, anger biting at him.

"Perhaps you may be able to help solve this particular puzzle?" Loki asked. "It would be in the interest of Asgard's safety, after all. Wouldn't it be beneficial to know why the Jotuns attacked and why you couldn't see the attack coming? Helping me solve this would more than return your good standing in my father’s eyes."

Heimdall knew Loki was doing what Loki does best, trying to manipulate him into doing his work for him. That triggered something inside Heimdall.

"I'd watch that silver tongue of yours, my prince." Heimdall fastened his helmet back on his head. "Some are not easily swayed by your honeyed words."

Loki clasped his hands behind his back as he sauntered towards Heimdall with a cheeky grin, "You find my words honeyed? I must say, I'm flattered but--"

"I am required elsewhere," Heimdall abruptly turned and stormed out of the room.

Loki's mouth remained open mid-sentence as he watched the brooding man retreat from the room. 

"Well, he's no fun," Loki said in a bored droll.

When no one replied he was reminded that there was no one else in the room save for the unconscious Midgardian woman.

"Damn..." He placed his hands on his hips and uttered to himself: "Perhaps Thor is in a more sporting mood?"

He rubbed his hands together like a man with a scheme and disappeared into one of his portals before Sif returned.

**_~ODIN_ **

"We'll only be gone a few days at the most," Odin informed his wife. "Heimdall assures me he knows where the giants retreated to. I've decided to take Thor with me. Perhaps, with my guidance, he will grow out of this… war courting phase of his and see reason."

Frigga patted his metal chest plate approvingly.

"Well, dear husband, have you thought on my proposal?" Frigga walked the hallways of the castle with her arm gracefully locked around Odin's.

Odin frowned, "I still believe her to be too dangerous to be allowed to stay here."

"But she has no home to go back to. No family. She is entirely alone," Frigga protested. "With us, she could learn how to use her gifts. Maybe to our advantage..."

Her eyes peered into his and Odin let out a restrained smile, "You are relentless."

"A queen has to be, my love."

They stopped once they reached the courtyard. Odin's horse had just been saddled, troops gearing up in preparation for a battle. Thor stumbled out from the direction of a tavern, his cheeks and nose dusted pink from mead. He held out his hand to call out Mjolnir. The hammer flew into his grip. Thor then dunked his head in a barrel of water and stretched his large muscles with a roaring noise emanating from his chest.

"It's time for glorious battle!" He exclaimed excitedly.

Odin sighed wearily, his face turning to Frigga's. She smiled humorously.

"I don't know why you're smiling. He's your son."

"And yours," she said.

Odin kissed her goodbye before mounting onto his seven-legged horse, "I'll have an answer about the girl when we return."

"Do not fear, Mother. When I return, your son shall be known through-out all nine realms as a great hero of Asgard!" Thor bellowed proudly.

"Just make sure he doesn't overreach and lose himself along the way," Frigga patted his cheek.

Thor swung his hammer around with a cock cocky smirk, "That's what the hammer is for!"

"Be careful!" Frigga blew them a kiss as they rode for the bi-frost

**_~Y/N_ **

You had been in and out of consciousness for almost a week. Some days were more lucid than the others. It felt like an aeon since you'd held a single train of thought or seen a friendly face. Your mind was ill at ease, locked inside a prison of harrowing afterimages, so once you awoke, relief flushed through your system.

You gasped awake, your body less sore than the first time.

"Easy," a woman’s soothing voiced helped usher you to consciousness. "Your body may be healed, but you've been unconscious for a while."

You opened your eyes, the room looked foggy. In your groggy state, you had mistaken this woman's voice for your mothers and you called out sheepishly, "Mother?"

"Not quite dear."

You blinked away the remnants of sleep and sat up from your bed. When your vision grew clearer you got a better look at the woman. She was beautiful in a timeless way, graceful yet somehow permeating an air of wisdom. Her hair was as gold as straw, eyes mirroring the colour of her silk blue gown.

"My name is Frigga, child." She steadied you. "What's your name?"

"Y/N..." You said lowly as your eyes landed to the dark figure leaning against the door frame, beside him was a woman dressed in armour, a statuesque expression.

"Beautiful name," she mused. "Do you know where you are?"

"A- Asgard..." You said wistfully.

"That's right," she encouraged with a bright smile. "Try and stand."

You did as she suggested, your legs wobbled ever so slightly before correcting.

"Come," she urged you. Taking your hand in hers as she started walking out of the room. "Let's get you to some light."

You allowed Frigga to steer you towards the outside, thankful to be away from that accursed room that still smelt of nightmares and anxious fits.

Behind you, the man from the balcony stretched his arm out to block the intimidating woman from following after with uncomfortable closeness. She swatted his hand away, but he simply brought it back up to block her once more. "Give her space. You don't want her to wither under your… watchful eye." He said with a low lilt.

The warrior woman rolled her eyes and stayed a respectable distance from you. So did the dark-haired man.

Frigga used this private walk to try and explain everything to you. How you survived the attack, how your fate was still undecided and how you had magical abilities. 

"I- I possess magical abilities?" You couldn't believe your own words.

Frigga laughed lowly, "Don't be so alarmed child. If history has taught us anything, it's that we women have an aptitude for channelling powers more primal than most can comprehend."

"How come?" You asked

She looked at you with a prideful smirk, "Well, as my mother would tell me: It's because we're better listeners." She winked secretly.

You laughed at her unexpectedly witty retort.

"You have a marvellous laugh," Frigga commented. "It is good to see some light back in you." She rubbed your back affectionately. You were lost for words at her kindness.

"Now," She turned to face the dark-haired man and the angry-looking warrior woman. "Let me introduce you to my son, Loki. He has been charged as your mentor until Odin returns. He's well versed in the art of magic-" she leaned in closer to whisper this part: "Though I will warn you, he is a little too cunning for his own good."

Frigga leaned back up and continued, "Loki shall help train you to better understand your gifts while you stay here. And Lady Sif, over here, has been assigned to protect you."

Uncertain, you asked, "Why would I need protection here?"

Frigga paused, "Hmmm… Magic has a tendency to have a mind of its own. It's simply a precaution."

You caught Loki smile at you and tilt his head. He knew something you did not and it brought him great amusement. Frigga shot him a warning look and his face returned to a more relaxed and open expression.

Even though it wasn't said aloud, you knew the implication of having a _protector_. As much as you were a guest, you were also a prisoner. Those two distinctions always shared the same coin toss. No matter how much you yearned to return to simplicity, normalcy, and your own world, the realisation that you were stranded, alone and without knowledge forced you to swallow the ugly truth; you had no alternatives but for the path that lay ahead of you.

Reluctantly, you bowed your head and introduced yourself, "It'd be an honour to train under you, Prince Loki. My village has spun many tales about you."

"None too unflattering, I hope?" he replied after he took his own bow.

"Depends on what one considers flattery," you retorted, prompting Sif to huff in amusement.

"And, Lady Sif, I hope we can work in harmony around one another," you continued.

"You'll have no qualms with me as long as you abide by Asgard's rules." Her words weren't outright threatening, but there was a warning hidden behind her thin smile.

"Now that we're all acquainted, it's time you settled in," Frigga said sweetly. "Loki, would you mind showing Y/N to her quarters?"

"It would be my pleasure," he said coyly.

***

Loki's dark green attire contrasted with the light ocean tones of your room. You smirked at the thought they had chosen this room because of the fact it reminded you of the ocean. They had been correct in assuming so.

"That's a welcome change," Loki noted as he stared at your face unabashedly.

You rose a quizzical brow. He pointed to your lips.

"The smile. My mother will be delighted to learn you found the room to your liking," he guessed the cause of your smile accurately.

He stepped closer, examining you intensely. You felt like his gaze was striping you bare, except there was no lust in his eyes -not like you'd seen in Baldrick's eyes that day in the forest. No, Loki looked at you with the surgical brow of a healer inspecting a patient. You felt anxious as he looked down at you, your spine shivering.

"You've healed well..." His cold fingers hovered close to your chin but didn't touch it. Then his eyes dropped lower at the newly formed scar peeking out over your cleavage cut. His fingers grazed the scarred tissue making you remember all the horrors that birthed it. You recoiled away from his touch instinctively, your hand pulling the fabric closer to hide the long lateral scar. "Not completely, it seems."

He clasped his hands behind his back in an obvious manner. He took a step back letting you find comfort in space.

"You should rest," Loki said. "We begin training tomorrow."

As he walked passed you, you turned and asked, "Where will I find you?"

"The courtyard. Don't worry about how to get there. Lady Sif will never be too far from you. A watchful hawk, she is. She'll bring you to me." He said flatly. "Rest up. Tomorrows your first lesson."

"What _is_ my first lesson?"

He smirked devilishly, "The first lesson of everything: control."

**_~One Week Later~_ **

"Don't get too cocky," Loki murmured pleasantly against your ear as he held you in an arm lock. "We both know who the master is here..."

You scoffed at his breezy attitude. You'd been training together for a week now and you'd come to learn that Loki loved to win. But more than anything, he enjoyed to taunt you. It turns out his version of teaching you magic was to spar. The goal: knock down your opponent with any and every trick in the book. He explained that learning to control magic in a calm and safe environment was useless in a real struggle. This way he'd get to have some fun while teaching you to keep your wits about you while you burned all your pent up aggression from your nightmares on him.

"Not for long," you said confidently as you used your magic to push his body away from yours in a pulse of electrified blue energy.

Loki stumbled but caught his balance, his daggers still held tightly in his hands.

"A commendable effort," He praised with a sarcastic bow before he threw a dagger at you. You telekinetically drew your shield towards you from the place he had knocked it down earlier, shielding yourself from the projectile. It bounced off your shield with a resonating ping.

"Your abilities have grown beyond my expectations," he said through ragged pants, pulling his hair back with his free hand.

Loki sprinted after you and you bashed his attacked away with your shield, a gonging noise echoing out.

Sif and Frigga stood and watched your exchange from the balcony above the courtyard. Their expression stark opposites of one another; Frigga's filled with excitement while Sif looked beyond bored.

"I have an excellent teacher," you said.

Loki smiled, "Nice try-" Loki opened several portals, pulled your weapons through each adjacent portal and materialised them several feet away, leaving you disarmed. He then managed to lock you in a second grip, "But I fear flattery cannot afford you any special treatment."

You felt his chest move up and down raggedly against your back, your hands gripping his elbows locked around your neck.

"Perhaps I was trying to distract you," you said suggestively as you tilted your head to face him. Your eyes staring into his as you licked your lips slowly.

Loki's mouth hung open before you used his dazed state to exchange positions, your magic flinging his dagger out of his hand and into yours.

Loki grumbled in disappointment, "You toy with my feelings so easily." You laughed in soft breathy exhales while he found a blind spot in your stance and slithered out of your grasp. Then he continued dramatically: "I'm hurt."

"Admit it, it was working," you said with some trouble as the flush set in on your cheeks.

"I shall do no such thing," he whispered in your ear in triumph.

"Time out," you patted his arm and he let you go. Loki handed you a flask of water once he finished drinking from it and then wiped the sweat from his face and arms with a cooled towel. You swallowed down the water greedily, your eyes lingering a little too long on his exposed muscles before you turned to look up at Sif -Frigga now out of sight. "Is she always going to be there, hovering over my shoulder, never farther than a stone's throw away."

Loki followed your eyes, "Sif is… a difficult nut to crack, slow to trust outsiders. She still thinks you're dangerous. And if your aptitude for magic is any indication, she's not wrong."

You exhaled at his blatant attempt at flattery, before pointing out nonchalantly: "You aren't trembling in my presence."

Loki arched a brow and smirked, "I only make it a habit to tremble from pleasure, young apprentice. Not fear."

Your eyes went wide as you choked on the flask of water mid swig causing Loki to snicker playfully.

Your face lit up with the inklings of an idea.

"I suppose that means I should change up my tactics," you flirted.

"I'd be happy to give you some pointers sometime," Loki added as he put his coat on.

You sauntered with purpose over to him, "Why not right now?"

Loki looked back up at Sif, "I don't like an audience."

Before he could say anything else, you used your magic to call forth several vines that were creeping along the walls of the palace, wrapping him firmly in a spiralling knot.

"Hkkk! You tricked me?" His eyed you up and down with a fiendish smile on his lips. "Maybe I should fear you, using such devious tactics to declare a win after you called time out."

Your boot kicking up the dagger laying on the ground into your palm. The blade pressed firmly against his Adams apple, your face within a hairsbreadth away from his, noses almost touching, lips barely an inch away.

"Don't act like this isn't the type of stunt you'd pull..."

"I may be sore, but I'm not a sore loser. I know when it's time to concede." His hands peeking out of the vines waved in defeat, a mirage of a white piece of fabric being waved about. You undid the veins and set them back onto the walls they came from in sparkling glints of magic.

Loki worked the kinks out of his neck in slow circles, "Alas, fair maiden, this round is yours.

Your ego was thoroughly inflated as you rose your hands in the air in triumph. The on-lookers clapping, laughing and murmuring.

Loki bowed in honourable defeat but whispered low enough for only you to hear, "Heed my words when I say, your victory will not be long-lived. Enjoy it while it lasts."

Loki winked and you felt the sizzle of electricity run through you.

You may not know much about this new world, but one thing you knew for sure: Loki was trouble. Not just any kind of trouble, the fun kind. And after everything, maybe you deserved a little fun.


	4. White Tundras

**~Y/N**

A row of guards took up defensive positions against you, moving around until you were surrounded by in a circle. Loki had been subtly ramping up the difficulty of each sparring match after his defeat. This was simply another one of his stunts.

You dug your heels into the courtyards lawn. Your sparring party advanced like butterflies on a string, when one moved the other adapted, keeping the circle as perfectly formed as possible.

You deflected sword swings, axe thrusts, flinging daggers and shield bashes as deftly and gracefully as you could. You relied more on your light footing and magical abilities than brute force.

Once a soldier knocked you off balance or onto the ground, Sif would bang her sword onto her shield and shout sternly, "Again!"

You'd groan, roll your eyes and storm back into the fray. Each reset made your limbs feel heavy, each knock made your muscles ache and each time Sif banged on her shield you wanted to use your abilities to bang it against her stern face. Seeing her everywhere, cold eyes, grim line across her lips, each day, every day, was driving you slightly insane. And more than a little agitated.

Loki and Frigga were nowhere to be seen this morning. Loki had spent more time doing research since his defeat- he was undoubtedly sulking. For a god, he certainly had a flair for the dramatic. For a prince, his behaviour seemed appropriate.

Suddenly, a shield crashed into your chest and you left you feeling winded, knocking the air out your lungs.

"Ughhh!" You collapsed. The soldier retreated to his original position.

"Again!" Sif banged on her shield.

You rolled your eyes like clockwork.

"I need one damn minute," you tried to catch your breath.

"Your enemy won't give you the privilege of a respite. Again!"

Sif ordered louder than before.

"Gaaah!" You flung your hands from exasperation while still on your knees. What you hadn't intended to happen was cause several soldiers to hurtle backwards from a wave of air.

Sif took cover behind her shield and hunkered on one knee to stay in place. When she stood back up she looked at you with both disbelief and fear hiding behind anger.

"Oops, sorry." You rose your hands up cautiously, biting your lip to keep from laughing. An apologetic look making your eyes flutter wide-eyed. "Water break?"

All the men rose from their fallen positions and groaned in agreement, dropping their weapons onto the grass while they stretched out their joints. Sif stood back up and followed you to the water barrels.

**~LOKI**

Loki turned the page of the book hovering above the table without the use of his hands, legs crossed at the ankle on the table. His fingers were busy working on an octagonal puzzle piece, eyes fixed on the magic reflective pool that allowed him to keep an eye on Y/N while she sparred in the courtyard.

A pleased smile spread across his face when he saw her fling several soldiers through the air accidentally. The childish face she pulled when Sif scowled at her intrigued him. It was almost adorable.

"Why do you watch her so?" Frigga asked as she walked into the library.

"Curiosity," Loki admitted as he stopped toying with the puzzle, setting it down on the table and stretching from the stiffness that ached at his bent spine.

Frigga smiled, "I've seen you curious, and this isn't the same."

Loki stopped the magic that caused the pages to turn on the book, it slumped loudly onto the surface of the table as lifeless as it was supposed to be.

Loki rolled his eyes, "Is that why you tried to convince Father to let her stay? Why you made me teach her the ropes when we both know you'd be a better teacher? So you could play matchmaker?"

Frigga took a turn about the room, her hand gliding over each books leather-bound spine at shoulder level. "I simply want what's best for you."

Loki scoffed sarcastically, "Because Father would definitely approve."

"Besides, I thought that by giving you something to do you'd stop playing tricks on your poor brother. You know how much he despises your aptitude for… trickery."

"It's not my fault he's a boorish brute, too thick-headed to see through simple guises," Loki snaked.

Frigga used her magic to fling a book at his head, "Don't be so hard on him."

Loki ducked away from the on-coming book and it, in turn, gently placed itself back on the shelf.

Loki laughed, "He makes it too easy."

"One of these days, my son, someone will wipe that smirk from your face," Frigga said.

"Well, until then," Loki jumped off his seat and went to retrieve another book from the shelf. "I'll just have to ensure this handsome face finds reasons to smirk." He pointed at his lips as he flipped through pages, eyes narrowing when he saw something of interest. "If you'll excuse me, Mother, I have a mystery to solve."

"Don't undo the fabric of the universe," Frigga sighed before making her way to her chambers.

**~Y/N**

Your rest was uneasy, as was par for the course recently. Every time you shut your eyes, you were reminded of all the things you wished you could have forgotten. Smoke serpenting towards the moon; blood-stained snow; giants slashing bodies in half; marked blue skin; demon red eyes; a cold sharp implement serrating through your chest; drowning in blood.

Your mood had begun to suffer ever since you woke up in a strange world surrounded by the god-like beings you once revered.

It helped that most of your days were kept busy by training with Loki or doing research in the libraries, it was your time alone that you dreaded. You had even grown to find comfort in the ever-watchful gaze of your protector, Sif.

You had been tossing and turning all night. It was discomforting how invasive the light in Asgard could get. It may have been mesmerising each morning to awaken to such spectacular, brilliant skies, but it also got annoying when all you wanted to see when you closed your eyes was pitch black. The world here didn't turn to blackness like it did on Earth. There was always a lit lantern, a light shimmering, a star too bright.

Asgard's odd placement and flat surface in the universe meant that the sun didn't rise and fall as it did on earth, and yet the skies would grow darker as though it did. Magic, you assumed. However, its effectiveness was like covering your eyes with lace or a mesh cloth, light still got through the tiny holes.

When you finally conceded to your agitated mood and stopped trying to force yourself to sleep, you put on your long sheer cloak and made your way to a balcony that overlooked the waterfall at just the right angle. No buildings obstructing and a clear line of sight of the statue of Bor.

This was one of the few places where guards were scarce. Sif however, was lingering within the shadows a few paces away. No matter how much time passed, she never failed to watch you like a hawk, making you feel closed in and unwelcome some days.

Your frustration started to bubble to the surface and the leaves budding off the vines entwined around the balcony columns shivered from the outward ripple of your power.

You remembered one of Loki's key teachings and rolled your shoulders until they slumped back and your head was tilted to the star-speckled sky. You closed your eyes and took in several deep, slow breaths.

"Do you ever sleep?" You asked just loud enough for Sif to hear you.

After a beat, you heard her footsteps advance towards you until she was close enough to touch, her body showing signs of fatigue for the first time as she leaned against the balcony railing.

"That's a secret I'll never tell," her tone sounded alarmingly close to being amiable.

You were taken aback by her more approachable demeanour, Sif almost looked at ease. For once you didn't feel like a pariah surrounded by people who only looked at you with caution and fear, anticipating the worst from you. Maybe it was because you were used to Sif being the forbearer of such responses to your actions, it felt freeing to have her so close and not armed to the teeth.

"I barely sleep," you tried to get her to open up a bit more.

Sif kept her eyes locked straight ahead, "I know."

"You must be looking forward to the day Odin and Thor return. You won't have to hover over me through each waking moment."

"I am."

"Oh..." Her bluntness stung a little.

Sif noticed your posture droop, "I worry for them. I'm frustrated they chose not to take me with, but they had no problem taking those three idiots with."

"Them?"

"Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg… and Thor." Her lips flickered.

"Oh, the fabled Warrior's Three. My mother used to tell me tales of their adventures," you said with a bitter-sweet fondness.

"D- do you miss your family?" Sif seemed a little adamant to ask the question.

You swallowed hard, your hand touching the scar on your chest instinctively. You remembered everything with excruciating detail.

"With every breath."

"I can't begin to imagine..."

"Don't," your voice was a cold warning despite its low range.

Feeling the air turn stale with dread, Sif tried to shift the mood, "You should take up weapon practice. Magic, though powerful, has its limitations."

You played with your magic, prompting a bud to bloom under your touch. "What do you suggest?"

Sif thought long and hard, "It will take weeks for your arms to grow accustomed to Asgardian steel. I'm assuming most of your shields were fashioned from wood which means you've got the muscle for lighter materials. Perhaps a weapon with range. Something light and agile that won’t slow you down."

"My mother was an archer in her youth, taught me a thing or two about hunting," you spoke softly, reminiscing about the past.

Sif hummed in agreement, "A bow would be a perfect weapon for you. I believe the Dwarf blacksmith Brokkr is still here. We can speak to him about fashioning you a bow."

Sif pulled her night shawl around her arms, her braces covered by purple fabric.

"He's probably still in the tavern," she mused. "Care for a stroll?"

You were more than elated at the idea, "I have nothing better to do."

***

The tavern was saturated with the stench of mead and stale bread. In the corner, a bard played his minstrel with numbed fingers, nose and ears red from drink. The tune he played out was off on several notes and more than a little out of rhythm.

The bar-wench was wiping down the tables while men more sober than the patrons wheeled unopened casks of mead into a back room.

Even though you hadn't spent much time in taverns, this particular scene seemed homely to you. A smile crept onto your face. The bar-wench eyeing you suspiciously, but without the usual hints of fear.

"Wait here, I'll go ask Magda if she's seen Brokkr," Sif told you as she left to converse with the bar-wench.

You strolled around, eyeing each drunk burly sized man and woman that were half passed out on the furniture. The fireplace grabbed your attention, the thought of being showered by a million splinters made you shiver. You rubbed your eyes, starting when Sif tapped your elbow.

"She said they're in the back," Sif pointed to a doorway blocked off by some drapes in the back. "Here-" she pulled the hood of your cloak over your head. "Best not stir any suspicious eyes."

"What's back there?" You asked.

"That is where the Game of the Fates is played," she replied.

"Game of the Fates?"

"You'll see," Sif reassured you. "Magda says there's quite a crowd today. Don't wander off, you're still a stranger to most here."

Sif pried the dividing drape to the side, allowing you to slink through the small opening, she followed behind and you waited for her to lead the way.

In a dark corner to the south of the building, a rounded, muscly Dwarf with dreading hair and an unkempt beard running all the way down to his navel, sat on a set of small furnishings. His head in his hands as he burped into an empty clay jug with detailed depictions of Valkyrie's.

"Brokkr?" Sif asked, hunkering down on folded legs to keep the Dwarf's eye level.

"Begone, wench. I have no need for more ale," He waved her away without looking up.

Sif smiled and took his hand in hers, applying pressure to his meaty thumb.

"Arrrg!" He reclined backwards.

"Do I look like a tavern-wench?" Sif said with patronising sweetness.

You smiled at her quiet display of brass.

"Lady Sif, forgive me, I didn't see you there." Brokkr snatched his hand away once Sif released it. "What brings you to my humble table?" He sneered, glancing at you with uncertainty.

"We'd like to commission a weapon," Sif said.

"A new sword eh? I see you're without your usual choice of weapons..." Brokkr banged his two metal bracelets together, sparking like firewood, and out of thin air, a sword of pure gold manifested in his open palms. "I call it Wyndel the Crooked, because of the curved edges." He handed it to her.

Sif eyed the magnificent piece of metalwork, the gold gleaming with the fire from the torches. She balanced the hilt and flicked the blade with her nail, a resonating ping spreading outward.

"This is impressive Brokkr, somehow I feel you've been holding out on me," Sif placed the sword on the table. "Gold isn't really my colour, though."

"No, but it's hers," Brokkr's eyebrows wiggled in your direction. His concentration focused on your eyes. "Never in my years have I seen such marvellous eyes. I know of a collector who would die to have them on display."

You gulped and took a small step back.

Brokkr's yellowing teeth flashed in full view as he laughed at your frightened expression, "Relax, lass. He is a far ways from here."

Sif slapped her palm on the table, "Stop terrorising her. Back to the matter at hand."

"Right, what weapon were you thinking?"

"A bow, something fashioned from wood. Light and balanced."

Brokkr stroked his braided beard, "A bow, eh? I haven't sculpted a bow since… Well, it's been too long to remember."

Brokkr reached over into his pocket and pulled out a pair of monocles, he then snatched your hand close, dragging you towards him with impressive strength.

"Hey!" you protested but Sif placed a hand on your elbow and gestured everything was okay.

"Dainty, long, a little bony," Brokkr laughed. "Small palm, unusually long fingernails. Hmmm, yes I can work with these." Brokkr's brows frowned as he pulled your palm closer to his monocles. "These lines-" He ran a fat finger across your palm lines.

"You are haunted by terrible dreams, but some of them aren't dreams. Some haven't come to pass. Loss, pain, anger... death!" His eyes snapped to yours with wiry intensity.

You pulled back and forced your hand out of his, Brokkr stared lifelessly for a moment before turning back to Sif and regaining his relaxed posture from before. "I can have a bow ready in two days."

Feeling unnerved by what just transpired you leaned close to Sif and whispered, "I don't think I can be near him right now, I'm going to look around."

Sif nodded, "Remember not to wander too far, I am going to try and haggle a discount from this prideful fruit-cake."

You left Sif and Brokkr behind, their hushed arguing growing more and more heated the further you walked. Drawn to a gathering crowd, you pushed your way through in an effort to see what all the commotion was about.

You heard the rattle of dice inside a cup as a familiar voice spoke out coyly, "Do you honestly think your Warrior will strike down my Champion?"

A deeper, controlled voice responded, "You bestowed the favour of cunning, but not all know how to wield it as skillfully as you, my prince."

When you made your way through, you recognised Loki, sitting on a stool, fingers tapping on his lips as though he was contemplating something. The darker man beside him seemed familiar, like seeing a reflection in passing, but you couldn't say for sure if you'd ever seen him before. The two-horned helmet resting beside his sword close to his feet gave you some idea of who he might be. His gold eyes shooting in your direction, brow furrowed, jaw clenching.

You felt like you had imposed on something important, his gaze making the hair stand on your neck. You nearly fumbled out of the crowd, but Loki spotted you and rose from his stool with a great smile on his face.

"Ah, if it isn't my favourite student, Y/N," He pulled a chair out from under a spectator using a flush of magical energy, causing the poor man to tumble to the floor. "Please, sit. Join us."

You gulped, afraid to hold contact with those golden eyes, "I don't want to impose."

"Nonsense, Heimdall doesn't mind. Do you?" Loki arched a brow at the man opposite him.

Heimdall let out a huff of air, extending his hand to the chair, "Not at all."

You sat and watched the men play a game that comprised of dice, a board, a large brass bowl with leaves burning in blue flame and several carved statuettes.

"What is this?" You whispered to Loki.

He leaned close and placed his pinkie finger on your knee as he explained in a scheming manner. Heimdall narrowed his eyes disapprovingly, making Loki's smile grow wider.

"It's called the Game of the Fates. Each carved figure is unique to each… err, we'll use the word God for lack of a better term. They represent a being we have seen fit to bestow a blessing on to try and shift the balance of fate in their favour."

Your mouth opened in a small O shape as you tried to keep track.

Loki continued, "The dye is rolled to determine whose turn it is. We each pick a number and the one who chose the number closest to the one shown on the pair of dye takes their turn. Then they stare into the flame and it reveals what has transpired, like a window through space. The one who tilts the balance in their favour the most wins."

"Wins?" You asked, almost hurt. "Sounds like you're playing with the lives of mortals, intervening with the course of action."

Loki chuckled, "Isn't that why mortals pray to us."

You squinted your eyes at Loki but you had to reconcile the fact that he had a good point, "What does the winner get in return?"

"All sorts of things," Loki removed his finger from your knee after Heimdall stared daggers at him. "In this case, we bet a secret. If I win, Heimdall gets to reveal his secret."

"And if you lose?"

This time Heimdall was the one to speak up, "Then I get to set some ground rules."

"Shall we?" Loki asked Heimdall.

Heimdall nodded.

Your eyes absentmindedly wandered to the blue flame. It began to dance and skirt, forming enflamed pictures. Then that horrid blue face with those devoid red eyes screamed at you through the fire and you felt something powerful free itself from your chest.

The sensation was so powerful you started to lean to the side, on the verge of collapsing. Heimdall tried to steady you, but as soon as his skin came in contact with yours, a golden curtain closed over your eyes as burning visions flowed into your synapses.

A smile over pink lips, laurel wreath crowning wild curls, two palms pressed together: one dark the other light. Eyes as blue as yours staring back at you.

"Mother?" You gasped within the waking dream. She didn't hear you or see you.

She was young then, younger than you ever remembered her being. The vision was off, like a memory fallen to age and constantly made to look brighter and seem more colourful.

Then your own memories mixed in and suddenly you were back on the cold ground with a sword in your chest, red eyes looking down at you in disgust.

"It's here, I can almost taste it!" The frost-giant said to someone you couldn't see

You focused on those eyes that reflected your pooling blood at you. It was as though you were willing yourself back to that point, all the anger clawing to be free, to undo the past and kill this giant that stared down at you before he could try and kill you.

Through the rush of rage, you felt your power drawing from another magical source. An older and much darker one. Through the confusion, two more hands braced around you and then you were falling through a spillway of colour.

***

"Y/N," You felt someone’s fingers lightly tapping against your cheek. "Y/N, wake up."

The cold icy feel of snow seeping through your cloak forced your snipe to shoot upwards, eyelids flying open as you took in the unfamiliar surroundings.

"What? Where?" You tried to get the words out but you were too distraught to think straight.

"You opened a portal and took us with you," Sif relaxed back into the snow, Brokkr's golden sword next to her.

"I should have warned you," Loki walked from one edge of the cliff-face to the next, trying to get his bearings. "Never stare into the flames. They show you what it is you most desire to see. When Heimdall tried to steady you, I think you leeched onto his latent powers. He can open portal-ways, but it takes a tremendous amount of energy."

"I don't think I desired this," you searched the horizon for a landmark. "I don't even know where we are."

"Well, we aren't on Asgard anymore," Sif said.

"Judging by all this mist and how cold and dark everything looks, I think we're on Niflheim," Loki squinted across the landscape of mountains and snow and ice that stretched forever. No sign of life or civilisation.

Sif stood from the snow and shouted to the sky, "Heimdall, if you can hear us, open the bi-frost! Heimdall!"

"He can't see us," Loki said nonchalantly.

"What do you mean he can't see us?" Sif demanded.

"It's because of her," Loki pointed at you. "She bears a mark of Odin. I believe your people call it the Ægishjalmar?"

You nodded, "It's a protective marking, all the women in my family have it."

"That's a half-truth," Loki snorted. "It is a protection spell, just not from harm."

You stood to look him directly in the eye, "Then what is it?"

"What is the one thing a God, as you like to call us, would ever think mortals needed protecting from?" He asked.

"Their own kind," Sif groaned as she swung the sword at a rock in frustration. "It's a masking spell. That's why Heimdall never saw the attack. And that's why he won't be able to see us!" She kicked the snow next.

"Why would Odin try and mask my existence from your kind?" You asked the two Asgardian's.

"You're a witch and a powerful one. Whatever the source of your power-" Loki moved your cowl over your shoulder so his fingers could grace over the brand on your forearm. A shiver ran across your arm sending tingles of electricity through you. You pulled away and Loki tilted his head to the side, his face confused by the strange electric current that passed through you both. "That is probably the reason."

"Okay, then it's simple," Sif stormed over to you. "You just have to open another portal."

"I don't know how. As I said, I've never been here before," you said with annoyance. "I can barely fight let alone conjure enough power to open a portal through worlds!"

A flash of blue light swept through the snow around you, blowing it away to form a perfect circle around your knees as you crashed to the ground feeling helpless.

"The flames show you what you desire to see," Loki kneeled next to you. "What is it you desire?"

"To see my mother again."

"No, pet," He lifted your chin. "That is what you wish for, not what you truly desire. What is it that drives you each moment of every day?"

Anger flashed through you, a glow reflecting through Loki's calm eyes letting you know your eye colour had turned into a burning azure, bright and fierce.

"I want to kill him," you said through gritted teeth. "I want to feel the life leave his body. I want to destroy them all!"

Wisps of blue smoke snaked around you causing Loki and Sif to lean away from you. The mountain beginning to rumble. You screamed in frustration, another ripple of power bursting through you. The cliff shook and the snow was thrust into the open air to form an artificial snowfall. A stream of blue light burning a hole through the grey clouds, acting like a flame in the dark.

"She probably tracked the essence of the frost giant that tried to kill her," Loki whispered to Sif.

"For once, Loki, I agree with you," Sif brandished the golden sword Wyndel with two hands as she looked down the hill.

Having spotted the miraculous burst of light, the Jotuns had gathered below the cliff-face, weapons in hand, red eyes filled with fear and surprise. They were a scouting party, probably stationed here to ambush someone.

Loki rolled his eyes, "Typical. All I wanted to do was play a harmless game of Fates!"

You walked over to Loki's side, "I suppose this is good a reason as any to put my skills to the test."

Loki sighed and retracted his arms, small daggers falling into his palms from their hiding place up his sleeve.

"Yay," he said dryly. "Let's go fight some giants."

Sif sighed, “The one day I decide to leave my weapons behind.”

**~HEIMDALL**

Heimdall gasped in shock as he saw Loki, Sif and Y/N disappear right before him into a portal. When he had felt his daughter’s powers leeching from his own, he had urged Sif and Loki to help pry her from him, but in turn, they had been sucked in too.

All the eyes in the tavern were a mixture of drunk confusion, shock and fear.

“Hey, where did you send them?” Brokkr demanded. “That mean warrior took my sword with her!”

Heimdall stood hastily as he made his way to the palace in search of Frigga.


	5. Restitution

**SOMEWHERE ON NIFLHEIM**

**~THOR**

Thor had taken up position behind the cover of an alcove carved into a mountainside. He and the Warriors Three had been tracking a small group of Jotun spies. Odin led his own group of men to the south, in the hopes they would find more tracks, more spies.

Thor's cape rustled about from the strong winds, his arms gripping his biceps to stop them from shivering. Hogun had started a fire while Fandral drummed his fingers dolefully against his chest, a complaint escaping his mouth every few minutes. Volstagg, who was sat upright, let out rumbling snores that echoed against the close cave walls.

"We're wasting time out here," Thor grumbled.

Hogun sighed, tired of hearing the same thing over the last few days.

"Agreed," Fandral said monotonously. "That doesn't change our orders though."

"We do as Odin commands," Hogan probed the fire with a stick, his tone detached.

Thor looked out, scanning the white landscape, "And how does tracking spies help us? We've been freezing our asses off for weeks while my father refuses to take action. This is a fool’s errand. Our concern should be avenging those Midgardians, not following mindless giants to a frozen, arid, barren land."

The two men collectively exhaled, Hogun shaking his head at his friend.

Thor turned around, his rant far from over, "I know you all have your doubts about our orders too. And I know you all want to make sure what happened in Trønsberg never happens again."

Frandal sat up to look at Thor, "Yes, we all want to keep the mortals safe and all, but our king told us to survey the spies and that is what we're doing."

"Why do all this sneaking and surveying when fighting is more efficient?" Thor’s voice rang through the cramped space. His forehead marked by lines of irritation.

"Maybe Odin knows something we don't. Maybe that's why he doesn't want us attacking first. You can't ask a corpse questions you know," Fandral remarked sarcastically.

A deep rumbling, booming and seismic, almost like thunder slapped across the wailing winds.

"Again with the thunder," Fandral ran his hands over his face in frustration, twiddling his moustache to hide his irked state. "We get it, you aren't happy with the mission."

Thor's eyebrows shot up, "That wasn't me! And that still doesn't m--"

A line of blue light flashed into the cave.

"Shut up," Hogun stood from the fire, a gust of wind sweeping into the alcove and showering the fire with specks of snow, putting it out.

Thor narrowed his eyes and let out a huff of air, "If you didn't want to hear what I had to say--"

This time Fandral stood too, his eyes widening as he moved closer to the entrance of the cave, kicking Volstagg's leg along the way. He grumbled awake.

"I think Hogun was referring to that," Fandral pointed towards the skyline and Thor turned.

A beam of blue light shot up into the sky, breaking through a ceiling of grey clouds. Rested snow now cascading down the side of the mountains cliff-face like an avalanche while snow-flakes spiralled around the light like moths to a flame.

Hogun stepped out, the blue light shining onto his black hair, skin bathed in its hue. Volstagg muttered curses under his breath as he got off the floor with the help of his axe, face mesmerised by the beam.

"A beacon?" Fandral asked.

"Perhaps," Hogun replied, face blank in thought. "Or a signal."

Thor's face lit up, a childish grin taking over as he began to anticipate for a fight, hand outstretched waiting for Mjolnir, "You know what this means?"

The rumbling stopped and the light cut out.

"What what means?" Volstagg leaned against the cave wall.

Fandral hummed lowly, his hands falling on his hips, "It means we have to check out whatever that big blue light was."

Mjolnir in hand, Thor swung his hammer is circular turns, the choppy sound reverberating like a frantic heartbeat

**~LOKI**

Sif's sword sliced through the air leaving behind a metallic whistling noise, her jaw clenching as her eyes were set on her foe. A few feet away, another frost giant was thrown high up into the air, a face of fear when he was brought hurtling into the ground with bone-crunching intensity. The blue wisps of magic leaving his body and racing to form a magical barrier against several spears that were thrown their way.

Loki smirked as he used his own magic to ricochet the spears suspended in the air back at their owners, frosted tips embedding themselves into blue skin. One spear got through, and even though Sif deflected it, her balance was knocked off and she slid down from her position, tumbling close to the edge. Loki manifested a wall of snow and Sif's momentum was deferred. A grunt left her lips as she picked herself back up, nodding a thank you before she charged at the spearmen.

Loki lodged a dagger into one of the giant's neck just as he threw his sword. The sword flew towards Y/N right when a giant jumped from higher up, trying to get Sif from the top. Loki pushed the airborne giant into a jagged rock and dove after Y/N, the sword missing her by a hairsbreadth.

They tumbled through the snow before stopping a few feet away from a ledge. Y/N let out a sigh in relief, her breath blowing her hair from her eyelash. Loki used his hand to tuck the rest of it behind her ear.

 _If we weren't in the middle of a battle_ , he thought.

Loki helped Y/N stand before continuing their advancements.

He shimmered from his position behind a Jotun that was about to attack from behind some rocks, his dagger slipping between breast bones straight to the heart. The giant very nearly got a hold of Loki’s exposed wrist, but he managed to spin away in time.

A breathy grunt slipped out into the cold air.

Loki looked to Y/N, even though the anger was still very much present in her glowing eyes, her stance was faltering, foot slipping against the icy floor. The rage and inner-turmoil were causing her to burn out faster than usual. Suddenly, her face hardened as her eyes focused in on something. Despite the beads of sweat trailing down her face and her shallow rapid breathing, she gritted her teeth and with a wave of her hand a small section of the mountain broke off, a frost giant still standing on it.

Loki had never seen such raw power before. As he and Sif stared up at the flat piece of broken off mountain hovering above-head, dumbfounded expressions on their faces, Y/N's feet began to pick up off the floor, her body no longer tethered to the ground. She was flying.

A sharp ice implement shot through Sif's arm and with a painful howl Loki was shaken back to the fight that was still at hand.

**~Y/N**

You had been fighting for so long that your vision started to blur. Air too thick at your current altitude to feed your hungry lungs. Your stance was slipping, feet inching further away as you used your abilities to fling back, block off and raise up several enemy advancements. Just when you thought you'd used the last remnants of your energy, you saw him.

The same cold and detached red eyes that haunted your dreams. The same sneer that he wore when he plunged an icy sword into your chest. He saw you staring at him, a shift in his features telling you he remembered you- even though he couldn’t believe it.

Your body burned just as hot as the flames that once devoured your home and a new wave of power burst through you; potent, intoxicating and out for blood.

Simply by willing it, you broke off a piece of mountain rock that the giant stood on and rose him above the others, your body lifting to join him on your own private battlefield. The skies started shifting, swirling around you like a rotating curtain that separated you and the giant from everyone below. A whirlwind coming to fruition, with the two of you at the apex.

The giant cocked his head to the side, his sharp teeth sending chills down your back.

"You," he whispered.

"Me," you acknowledged as you used your magic to bring him to his knees.

He grunted in pain as your blue magical tethers wrapped around him and forced him still, "Impossible! No mortal can withstand a Jotun blade!"

"You destroyed my village," you rose a finger and broke several of his bones. He cried out again. "You burnt down my home," you rose your other hand, head shaking. The giant howled in pain again as he spat out blood from a new internal wound. "And you killed my mother!"

Your arms flung apart, separating the magical bonds that kept him bound, breaking his arm in the process. Bone sticking out of flesh at an unnatural angle. You hovered closer, placing your hand on his exposed chest, "But you failed to kill me..."

A glimmer of light escaped between the cracks of your fingers, magic tearing through his body like a hot knife through butter, leaving a palm-sized incision running through his body. You suppressed the reflex to gag, biting down to steel your conviction, to commit. But how he reacted after surprised you.

"We're always the enemy in your stories..." The giant looked up at you, a sickening grin plastered on his face, red eyes boring holes in you. With a shaky voice, he said, "Did you ever ask yourself, why?"

"Why what?" You said through gritted teeth.

He laughed, a strange sensation growing in your side, "Why… your… village...?"

"What do you mean!" You inched closer and a deep stinging burnt at your side. You gripped it and felt the slick wetness of blood. Blood smeared on your fingertips and the edge of a small dagger held in the giant's hand. A gasp leaving your body as you and the giant tumbled towards the ground, your magic dying out.

The last thing you heard before you blacked out was the sound of Loki shouting your name fighting through the sound of howling winds.

**~LOKI**

The first thing he noticed was a drop of blood crystalising as it fell through the cold air, then the grey clouds that swam whirled in the sky trickled off, clearing the sky and then finally, the sight of Y/N's body falling.

"Y/N!" He shouted. Panic and fear moving like venom through his adrenaline-soaked tissue. He felt shaky, it wasn't an emotion he was comfortable with.

Loki shimmered to a ledge higher up the mountain, he waited to see Y/N's body so he could dive after her and break her fall, but instead, it was the frost giants body, and only the frost giants body, that crashed onto the cliff's edge- dead. A blur of red flew past, the familiar choppy sound of Mjolnir being propelled through the air following after it.

Below, Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg shouted battle cries as their blades, maces and axes met the icy weapons of the giants. Feeling outnumbered and at a rope's end, the remaining stragglers made a break for it, jumping off the sides.

Loki let out a huff in relief, shimmering down to where the group of Asgardians had collected.

"Brother?" Thor’s voice called out as he landed. "Brother!" He said again with more certainty and a jolly tone. Y/N unconscious in one of his arms.

"Thor," Loki greeted back with a bit of bite.

Fandral drew a golden sword from a dead giant, "This is the most beautiful sword I've ever seen. Can I keep it?"

"Sure, if you're willing to pay Brokkr's prices," Sif replied, keeping pressure on her arm.

Fandral winced handing the sword back to Sif, "No one can afford that dwarfs prices."

"What are you doing here?" Hogun asked as he wiped the blood from his mace.

"Ask her," Sif nudged her head in Y/N's direction, her hand bracing against the cut.

"Something tells me she's not in a very chatty mood," Fandral deadpanned.

"Isn't that the mortal woman?" Volstagg squinted his eyes at her.

“I believe you’re right,” Thor looked down at the woman’s body held against in his large frame, she almost looked peaceful, at sleep. Her eyes didn’t skitter under her lids as one would in a deep sleep, they rested still, like the dead. “This is definitely the mortal girl.”

Hogun turned to the group, "The weather is treacherous up here. Perhaps we ought to go back to camp seeing as how we killed the giants we were supposed to be tailing."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Thor dropped Mjolnir and strode towards Loki, a happy smile on his face, "I cannot tell you how happy I am to see you, brother."

Loki smiled with pressed lips just as Thor's hand passed right through him. The mirage deteriorated into a green shimmer. Thor's smile disappeared and was replaced by a look of perplexity. Sif, Hogun and Fandral rolled their eyes at the parlour trick. Volstagg helped Sif stand steady, his face was equally unimpressed.

"We should head down from here, this path seems the clearest," the real Loki waved them down from across the cliff.

**~Y/N**

For the first time in a long time, you slept without dreaming. But even though you had finally been allowed your pound of flesh, a hollow feeling now replaced the spot where rage once made its home. In the absence of nightmares, you were left with a void and it felt more alone than ever. It was as though your anger had been the one thing that linked you to your life from before. Now that you had burned it out and enacted vengeance against the frost giant who darkened your memories, you felt like a husk of your former self.

When your eyes fluttered open, you were almost disappointed.

Almost.

"Ahhh," you croaked out as you held your head, the room swaying as you stood up.

Loki, who had been half asleep on a chair nearby, shot up, a book falling from his lap. A drawing of your brand etched onto a page. He rushed to your side, expression softening.

"Where…?" You had a hard time talking. Loki's hands steadied you upwards.

He smiled, "We're back in Asgard."

Your eyes refused to adjust themselves, "H- how?"

"Not without difficulty. My mother managed to contact me when we were down on Niflheim. Heimdall eventually managed to open a portal after some gruelling co-ordinating. You've been asleep for nearly two days. Your wound has healed but you'll still feel sore for a while."

Your hand instinctively fell to your side, eyes growing wider.

"The frost giant!"

Loki placed a reassuring hand above yours, "He's dead."

Somehow those words didn't comfort you as much as you'd imagined they would, eyelids growing heavy.

"Oh..."

Loki sat on the edge of the bed, his face unreadable, "I hate to admit it, but… you scared me for a moment."

You looked up at Loki's face, "I scared you?"

Noticing your despondent tone, Loki rushed to explain, "No, not in that way. While your potential for magic is frightening, that isn't what scared me. Well, perhaps it did a little..." Loki's eyes trailed off, looking everywhere but yours. "Ugh, I usually don't struggle with words as much."

This was a rare sight to behold.

You chuckled, finding his dilemma amusing.

"Oh, you find this amusing do you?" He cocked his head to the side, nose scrunching up disapprovingly.

"A little," you smiled.

Loki guffawed, "What I meant is that you're good company… And before you came along, things were pretty boring. I'd hate for things to go back to the way they were."

Loki's eyes stared into yours for a long pause, your heart beginning to hammer against your ribs. No one had ever looked at you like that before. An odd warmth spread from your lower spine to your stomach.

When he noticed he'd been quiet for too long, Loki removed his hand from yours and sat up from the bed, a pleasant look on his face- if not a bit detached. He bent down to pick up the book and bowed lazily, "I'm glad you're well. It'd be a shame if those eyes of yours closed for too long. They're too mesmerising to stay hidden beneath closed eyelids."

You blushed at his silver-tongued words and he noticed. He was more than pleased about that.

"If it's any consolation, I'm glad you were the first face I saw when I woke up. You've made being away from home a little bit easier to bear. Thank you for that."

Loki's smirk faded before he laughed to himself, prompting you to raise a brow.

"Oh, you find this amusing do you?" You reiterated back at him with a hint of sarcasm.

"Not in the slightest," he reassured you before he turned to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"To speak with my father," Loki revealed. "It seems my mother was right about something."

When your eyes had finally course-corrected and your body no longer felt worn out from long hours of sleep, you hopped out of bed and changed into the gown and shoes that were left on a stand.

**~HEIMDALL**

Heimall' eyes were closed shut, even though he stood upright guarding the bi-frost, he needed a rest from the endless watching. He couldn't always be the watchful sentinel. He was looking forward to the day ending so he could finally rest- and perhaps he would go check on his daughter.

 _Daughter_ , he repeated in his mind. _Such a strange word._

The sound of light footsteps alerted him to another presence. Without moving or opening his eyes, he spoke welcomingly, "Not many can sneak up on me."

The footsteps faltered before continuing towards him, "I didn't know I had."

Heimdall recognised her voice instantly. It was his daughter. Suddenly his armour felt heavier and his mind begun to tunnel into a spiral. He held onto the hilt of his sword in an effort to stay present and fight the thrumming of shame in his chest. He had barely known her for long and somehow he managed to fail her twice.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" his voice was strangled from the inside by hidden grief and worry, making his words to sound harsh. "From what I heard, you had quite the scare."

She gulped, hand bracing against her side. Heimdall regretted his tone.

"Curious mind, I suppose."

Heimdall opened his eyes, his brow's refusing to loosen from their knot.

"Curiosity, eh?" He cleared his throat so he wouldn't sound as forceful as before, "That sounds like the influence of a certain god of mischief I know."

She hummed in amusement, a slight blush dusting her cheeks. The thought of someone as conniving as Loki getting close enough to his daughter to elicit such a reaction from her just by mentioning him made Heimdall's blood boil.

 _There you go again with the daughter business_ , his mind chastised. _Old fool_ , he reprimanded himself. _You can't be the overprotective father if you were never her father in the first place._

"Is something the matter?" her sweet voice resembled Sigrid's at this pitch.

He could almost picture Sigrid in his mind. She had been young then, but he tried to add years to her mortal face. A few wrinkles, lines around her wisened eyes and stretch marks around her belly and mid-section from the pregnancy. Greying hairs impeding upon lively streaks of silken hair.

No matter how hard he tried, her aged face would always become unfamiliar to him, reverting back to the last memory he had of her. A memory of Sigrid being young and beautiful and defiant.

"Yes," Heimdall replied earnestly. "It's about you."

Heimdall turned to look his daughter in the eye, she looked back at him with the openness of a stranger. It pained his heart to know she was physically so close and yet...

"Me?" She asked.

"I-" Heimdall tried to call forth any reserves of strength he had left. "I wanted to tell you…"

His head slowly craned to glance at his hands straining against the hilt of his sword like his life depended on it.

Heimdall gave in, sighing deeply, the sting of cowardice pushing against his stomach, "I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I wanted to apologize for… for not being able to stop them."

She looked at him oddly, at that angle he could see the gold of his own eyes form a ring around her irises. Apart from that ring, her eyes were just like her mother's.

He ground his teeth as he blinked hard and slow, "It is my duty to watch over Midgard, to protect its people and see the danger before it--"

Heimdall trailed off when he felt his daughter's hand on his shoulder. It wasn't as heavy as Odin's sympathetic touch. It felt almost uplifting. He could feel a fraction of the weight lift from his body. The muscles in his face relaxed as he looked at her with gratitude. He felt his mouth go dry as his tear ducts began to accumulate water.

"I don't blame you," she said with a weak smile.

"You should."

She looked at him with misguide sympathy, "You shouldn't blame yourself."

"I… Thank you."

Her hand dropped away and the weight returned, drying out the tears that would have been. Heimdall inhaled deeply but noticed his grip on his sword wasn't as strong as before.

"Sif told me you fought bravely. She said you killed the frost giant that..." He couldn't bear to say the next words.

"It's strange," she began. "I have wanted nothing more than to return to a time when my life wasn't nothing more than bursts of anger and loss and pain- to a time when my life was simpler. And today, when I woke up, I realised I no longer felt angry… I thought getting vengeance would make the world make sense again, but..."

"Instead it left you feeling worse than you were?"

"Yes. It was like this great big absence of feeling. You speak as though you know of what I mean. Have you lost people too?"

Heimdall let go of his sword, one hand secretly holding onto the lock of hair in his pocket, "We all lose people… with time."

"I suppose… but time isn't what destroyed my village."

Heimdall shut his eyes through another deep breath. 

She looked out to the stars, "You know, from this spot, the universe seems a little bit less darker."

Heimdall memorised the curve of Y/N's nose and each freckle and spot, "One could almost say it's beautiful."

"My mother loved the stars. They brought her comfort during trying times." She chuckled before turning to face him completely, "It's only occurred to me that we haven't been properly introduced. My name is Y/N by the way."

 _Sigrid named her well_ , he thought approvingly.

A smile crept over his face, "A pleasure, Y/N."

Y/N headed out after a low curtsey.

Heimdall called out, "Y/N."

She turned slowly, "Yes?"

Heimdall noticed how surreal it felt to say her name.

"For whatever weight this holds, I'm glad you survived. I'm glad you're here."

She smiled and Heimdall pictured Sigrid smiling beside her too.

**~ODIN**

Odin had convened a council in his war room to strategize. Hours had passed and nothing close to a verdict of agreed-upon action had been reached.

"If what we saw on Niflheim is any indication of the limitations of this mortal’s ability, we should all be a little more cautious around her," Fandral pitched.

"She isn't as dangerous as you all believe," Sif chimed in. "After everything she's been through, it's impressive she hasn't lost control before."

"I don't know about you, but I've never encountered a witch with such unparalleled abilities before," Hogun said, his chin resting on his fist held up from the elbow.

"She needs guidance," Frigga was next to speak. "Control isn't an easy thing to master."

"Can someone that powerful be controlled?" Volstagg posited.

Frigga exchanged a look of secrecy with Odin before saying, "It isn't unheard of."

"Forget the witch," Thor burst out. "We need to focus our efforts on the frost giants."

Sif and the Warrior's Three collectively heaved sighs.

"This again," Fandral shook his head. "What happened on Midgard was a tragedy, but sometimes there are no logical explanations. Don't use this as an excuse to feed your lust for battle."

"They were the ones who drew first blood! I don't understand why we don't just go to Jotenheim and quash this rebellion before it grows!" Thor's fist pounded on the round table.

"Rebellion? The frost giants are rebelling?" Volstagg kicked his chair from under him when he stood abruptly. "If what Thor says is true, we can't risk waiting until this escalates in a war!"

"The only ones speaking of war here are the two of you!" Sif's tone was serious.

Odin banged his stave, demanding silence.

"Do you want to know why I ordered you to tail those spies?" Odin eyed Thor. "It was because I needed to know who sent them. The group that attacked the village in Trønsberg was small, elite and savage. Why? If this was an act of aggression or a proclamation of war, why send such a small party? Why not an army? Why go after an entire people when it could simply be the actions of a renegade few?"

The room grew quiet, troubled glances shared from one person to the next.

"For once," Loki's voice emanated from a hidden corner, his body teleporting close to the table. "I agree with Thor."

"What?" Sif and Frigga said in surprise.

Loki smirked, "I believe we should put more efforts into understanding why the Jotuns attacked Y/N's village, not just tracking the whereabouts of the giants who were responsible for the carnage." Thor's chest puffed up when he heard Loki's declaration, rarely did the two brothers see eye to eye. Loki, noticing Thor's shift in stance, held up a finger. "But I don't think we'll get the answers by attacking them. I believe the reason is linked to Y/N's power and why Heimdall is blinded to her presence."

Thor's stance returned to its intimidating default.

"Have you figured out why that is?" Hogun asked.

Loki materialised an old, yellow paged book into his hands. "I may have an inkling..." he looked up at Odin's eye in pride.

Odin banged his stave twice, "Leave us."

The room grew tense before people filed out begrudgingly one after the other.

Once alone, Loki used his magic to flip the pages to a drawing of the Ægishjalmar.

"The Helm of Awe," Loki pointed. "You gifted this symbol to humans as a form of protection, but it's more than that isn't it?"

Odin stared wordlessly as he watched his son gleefully prance about.

"It's a spell of concealment. It protects everything and anything from the prying eyes of a certain watchful someone. And if I'm not mistaken, it probably conceals the presence of magic from those skilled in rooting out sources of power, like sages and seers and… gods."

Loki pulled up a chair and sat with crossed legs, his presentation of knowledge far from over.

"So then I thought to myself, why would a simple earth witch and her daughter be the only ones to bear the symbol and not the entire village?"

The book thumped onto the tale as the pages skittered to a new page, this time it had a portrait of several women, crushed blue chalk colouring in their eyes. Two words signed at the bottom: Himmel Kvinner.

Loki continued, "Because they aren't witches at all. They're guardians, humans with a sacred duty given unto them by you. A duty that began as a mistake because their power isn't natural at all." Loki was savouring each moment of being the man with all the powerhouse cards in the deck. The pages flipped yet again to a sketch of a box with the same eight pronged symbol carved into it.

"Their powers are garnered from the residual effect of living close to this-" his finger fell onto the drawing. "An ancient power source that went missing after the war with the Jotun's over two hundred years ago. That's why the giants attacked, isn't it? They were looking for whatever is in this box."

Odin set his stave aside, arms folding behind his straightened spine, "And I suppose you're going to tell me how a Jotun sage detected this magical power source while the mark was still active?"

Loki held up a finger about to explain when Odin's words sunk in and he realised he hadn't accounted for that particular loophole, "I- I haven't figured that out yet."

"You should leave this be, son." Odin turned to look at Loki, a sincere look that was almost mournful took over his weary face. "Knowledge, for all its promise, is only a noble pursuit when it doesn't affect the one seeking it out. If you continue down this path, all you will find is dissonance."

Inching further in his seat, Loki stared at his father in defiance, "What are you so afraid of, Father? Why won’t you just tell us all why the giants massacred that village? Why Y/N survived a frost blade? Why Heimdall's brooding disposition has only worsened since?"

"Sins of the father," Odin replied.

Raising his nose in the air, Loki asked the right question, "Whose father?"

Odin smiled thinly before changing the subject, "From what disturbing news Thor told me of this human's powers, I am inclined to believe your training has done nothing to tame her spirit. She's dangerous. And yet, despite my efforts, your mother has talked me into letting you continue her training. As long as she stays under my roof, you may continue with her training."

The dark prince's scowl dropped, a tweak working against his cheek muscles. Loki was pleased by this.

"I assume you have better things to do than sit and gloat in front of your father?"

Loki shook his expression away, standing from his chair, "I'm sure I can find something to bide my time." He picked up the book.

"Loki… I know you have a knack for going against what I tell you, but please son, for your sake, let this be. You'll be happier for it in the long run, I'll handle the girl and the frost giants."

Without saying a word, Odin felt Loki's presence leave him as a green shimmer glowed atop the white pillars in his peripheral. 

**~A Few Days Later**

You dodged several of Loki's attacks, using your magic defensively rather than offensively.

You were still weakened from you battle on Niflheim, your power nowhere near where it used to be.

When Loki charged at you and you held your hand out to push him away telekinetically, the body rippled away into a thousand pieces of glowing green flakes.

"You and your tricks."

Suddenly a leg swept under you, sending your body falling backwards. You motioned to counter-attack and sweep Loki's legs too, but he simply gripped onto your locked legs and heaved. Soon the two of you rolled through the grass, Loki's lips curling upwards when he had you pinned to the ground. Arms held down by his, magic twining and tingling around your wrists.

He leaned close, his breath so close. Your heart did that thing again and you found it increasingly hard to swallow or move.

"I told you your victory wouldn't last..." his voice was seductively ominous.

The flush returned to your cheeks as you became aware of how dry your lips felt. You licked them slowly and his pupils dilated at the simple gesture. Hunger present in his face, his grip tightening on your wrists as he leaned further in, his scent intoxicating.

Heat flooded your system and you were a finding it hard to concentrate on anything but the distance between his lips and yours.

You could feel the muscles in his thighs contracting around your hips and then...

"Brother, there you are!" Thor bellowed out as he stalked over.

Loki rolled his eyes, as was the usual response he gave to Thor's presence, his head falling away from your face. Somehow, you felt deprived.

You let out a shaky breath when Loki released his grip from you, mumbling an annoyed, "Why?" to himself.

Loki helped you off the ground and looked up at his tall brother with a hooked brow.

"Thor," he greeted coldly. "What can I do for you?"

"I was looking for Y/N."

"You were?" You sounded baffled.

Loki's jaw set and his eyes narrowed, "Why?"

"Sif has a surprise for you," Thor smiled at you charmingly.

"Oh?" You emoted with surprise.


	6. Unravel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Okay, so I fully inteded this chapter to go differently, but then I started writing and things went a different way. More importantly, I read this beautifully dark fic yesterday and its darker atmosphere unintentionally slipped into this chapter (the second dream sequence) but like I promised, we get a break from battles and move onto the aftermath. Loki’s POV got away from me.
> 
> _If you're interested this is the fic:[Sanguine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4739396) but it's not a Loki fic._

  


**~LOKI**

Candlelight flickered, casting shadows on the walls. Night had fallen and blanketed the sky with starry light. In his dark room, beneath velvet sheets, Loki's lips found another’s. Passionate moans filled the room as their bodies entwined into one, rocking back and forth with a rhythm as old as time.

Loki lifted his head from the cover beneath the blankets, fiery eyes searching for another, searching for hers.

Her eyes were closed, soft pants falling from her swollen lips. He brought his lips to meet hers in a possessive kiss, his hips sliding forward slowly. She moaned his name like it was a forbidden spell, palms pressed against his back, pulling him closer to her, into her.

She felt divine, like forbidden fruit, her body open and wanting, welcoming and warm. A pleasurable damnation. He savoured her scent; earthy and sweet. He cherished the feel of her; soft and scarred. His lips devouring her neck and the dip of her collar and the sensitive skin between her breasts- the scarred skin. He was kissing away the phantom pains that lingered across her heart.

He felt something other than desire brew in his gut, it was different, more at peace. In his bed, under his sheet, tangled with her, he felt content.

Everything was perfect. The only thing he wanted more was for her to open her eyes and drown in her personal ethereal galaxy while she mewled his name.

"Open your eyes," he whispered as he sunk deeper, fingers tangled in the sheets to keep him from drowning.

She tilted her head toward his, eyelids fluttering softly and just when they were about to open...

Loki sat up from his pillow, eyes open and alert. His chest and arms slickened with sweat, his obvious arousal straining beneath his sheets. He scoured his room for any sight of her, but he was disheartened to learn he was alone.

His hand absentmindedly trailed to the empty spot on the bed where she had lain, a tightening feeling hugged his chest as he held his head in his hands and breathed out.

A wily smirk crept over half his face as he sighed, "That was new."

It had all been a dream. A torturous and pleasant dream.

The straining feeling between his legs hadn't abided, if anything the pressure simply increased, making him more and more aware of just how empty he felt compared to the version of him in the dream.

They had been connected… together. It had felt unlike anything before.

 _Ironic_ , he thought. _For her to have such an effect on me when she isn't even in the same room._

Loki lied back, his hand languidly creeping beneath his covers. He imagined the hand belonging to her before he closed his eyes and pictured hers opening.

***

That morning, on his way to the dining hall, Loki caught a glimpse of Thor, Sif, Hogun, Fandral, Volstagg and Y/N sitting at the table laughing, conversing, and becoming increasingly more familiar and friendly with her as time passed.

Thor's bellowing laughter echoed in the halls, fist-pounding at his chest while Fandral told a story with his usual flare. Feet now on the table, kicking wine goblets to the ground. Even Hogun found the show entertaining.

Loki had never achieved that closeness with them. He couldn't say why he was always guarded and secretive. Since he was a child he had always felt more like an outsider, an imposter of sorts, and seeing Y/N grow closer to the people who once feared her, though glad as he was for her, made him realise just how different he was from all of them.

As the day moved along sluggishly, Loki found it increasingly difficult to focus on anything but that damned dream. Every time he read through a book, he'd get lost halfway, images and moans from the deep recesses of his brain coming to life as though he were remembering a memory.

Frustrated, he pushed the book away from him and groaned, "It was a damn dream!"

"What was a dream?" Her voice chased after him and for a moment Loki hoped it was simply his mind being hyperactive.

He turned and saw Y/N standing by a bookcase, old tome in hand, her cheeks flush and hair sticking together from sweat. She had been training with Sif no doubt.

Ever since they returned from Niflheim, her powers had refused to return to normal, perhaps she had used too much magic, and because of that, Sif had insisted she learn more practical forms of protection. Loki couldn't say no, not after seeing how drained and weak she had been after the battle. For so long he thought that his interest in her was purely academic, all in the name of curiosity he’d tell himself, but when he had seen her body plummet from the sky, something new had been awakened in him, something primal he had never known existed.

A part of him wanted to protect her, keep her safe.

And all of him never wanted to see her plummet from skies or lay unconscious for days at a time ever again.

"Oh, I can actually read this one," Her eyes skittered over the page, reading the types of spells aloud: "Ehh… blood spells. A spell of concealment, a spell of rejuvenation, spell of… eww, exsanguination! Ohh, a spell of revelation. Who knew there were so many uses for blood?" She hummed, removing her eyes from the book. "Anyway, what was a dream?" 

"Nothing you need worry over," Loki ran a hand through his hair. "You've been training I see."

She made a bemused noise before putting the book away, "What gave it away?" She asked with a coy smile. "No wait, don't answer that. It's my new bulging muscles isn't it?" She flexed her arms with a playful smile, sitting on the edge of the table in front of him.

Loki decided to play along, bringing his fingers to squeeze at her biceps, "Ah, yes. I'm sure you'll be able to take on Thor soon."

“Wouldn’t that be a sight to see,”she chuckled, but Loki noticed a flush creep up her neck.

"I see Sif has done a good job taking over as mentor," Loki removed his hand from her flexed forearm.

"It helps being a scary warrior woman -you know she strong-armed Brokkr into giving her the sword for free when we got back?- I’ve never known anyone so fierce before," She shook her head, hair rustling about in messy braids. "It's oddly freeing, being able to do something as normal as training to use a bow."

She smiled softly, as though she were reminiscing.

Loki felt a pang in his heart, he knew she had tried her best to always hide her sadness, but he could tell something had changed for her ever since she killed that giant. She wasn't as closed off or angry, but on the other hand, she wasn't as passionate about things either.

"Do you miss using your abilities?" Loki wondered.

She looked up at him with a lost expression, "Not so much, no. Training with Sif has sort of reminded me of what it feels like to be mortal -to be normal. It's been a good distraction."

"Ah..." Loki's jaw clenched.

 _Had you expected her to say something different?_ He questioned his reaction.

As though she could read his mind, she looked up at him and smiled softly, "I do miss training with you, though. Sif is all rules and order and stances. It was fun with you, the no-rules thing was always exciting. Never knowing what you'd do next. Never knowing what I'd do next."

Loki's face warmed at her words, that feeling of contentment slipping between his breast bones. It wasn't as strong as before, but it was still there nonetheless.

"You weren't a half bad opponent yourself. Not many have ever had the drop on me."

"Yes well, you did live up to your word. My victory did not last long," she blushed deeper and Loki felt drawn closer to her, his focus falling on her lips.

She stood off from the table when she felt his eyes lingering too long, going to trickle her fingers across all the open books in the library.

"As unorthodox as your training methods were," she looked up through sincere eyes. "If it weren't for you, I probably wouldn't have survived Niflheim. You taught me that improvising in the moment is an important skill. I've got to admit, even I didn't know I had that much…" Her eyes shut for a moment as she searched for the right words. " _Power_ inside me."

Loki saw her hand tremble when her eyes fell on the sketch of her brand, fingers lifting to trace through the lines on her skin.

Without thinking twice about it, he placed his palm over hers. Her breath hitched at the contact, but he didn't pull away, he couldn't.

"You can talk to me."

Her eyes watered slightly, "I’m fine.”

"Ever since we returned to Asgard, you've been different. I've seen you when you think you're alone… You've been wrestling with something."

Y/N's mouth parted, not expecting to hear him say those words.

Loki squared his jaw, a little disappointed that he let that slip.

"You've been spying on me?" Her words weren't an accusation, she was trying to shift the mood by speaking in a playful tone.

"I'm the God of Mischief, I spy on everyone. Shhh," He brought his finger to his lips. "Don't tell anyone."

He winked and her expression shifted to one less burdened.

Smiling weakly, she said, "If that's true, then you should know there’s nothing to worry about."

Loki simply compressed his hand over hers more, a silent way of telling her he wasn't going to be distracted by her attempts of diversion.

"You may think you're alone, but you forget I spy on _everyone_. I've watched how everyone has opened up to you… accepted you. You may not see it, but I do. You aren't as alone as you think. Not anymore. You have people that care for you. You don't have to fight by yourself anymore. Talk to me."

A strangled gasp left her lips as she backed away.

For a moment, Loki feared he had pushed her away, said too much, asked too much of her.

"On Niflheim..." she spoke softly, her back turned to him as she looked out of the library windows. “The giant… he- he said something to me. At first, I thought he was playing tricks on me... mind games, but I can't stop thinking about it."

Loki dared not move an inch, her body language obvious, he stayed put and gave her the space she needed, "What did he tell you?"

"He implied there was a reason, that the massacre wasn't simply a cruel turn of fate," she laughed bitterly. "He sounded almost sad when he said his kind was always the monster in our tales."

Silence swept across them as Loki realised she may not be as knowledgeable about the events that transpired as he first hypothesized. He struggled to decide whether to say anything or let her stay oblivious. In the end, he knew that the truth, no matter how painful, was deserved.

"There is a reason."

Another second past before she looked up at him.

"What?" Her voice wavered.

"I've been researching you.”

“I noticed,” she said dryly.

“Your mark to be exact. It looked so familiar to me, I just didn't know where I saw it before," Loki picked up the book with the drawing and placed it in her hands. "Then I stumbled across this by accident and I remembered, when I was a boy, my father would tell Thor and I stories of our history. He would even take us to Midgard on occasion. I remember seeing that symbol there once. Carved into stone."

Y/N hand graced the pages of the book, longing to understand the text.

Loki cast a translation spell and the words shifted and morphed across the page in green shimmers.

"The tale goes that Odin had chosen a group of women to guard a powerful artefact. He feared Asgard to be unsafe at the time because of the war. Few would look to Midgard because it was still such a young and defenceless realm -the perfect hiding spot. Something happened to the women chosen, they gained abilities and as a way of honouring their gods, they branded the same mark Odin left behind when he placed the artefact in their keep on their bodies. Tradition stemmed that when they came of age, they'd receive the mark as well as learn the secret of the artefact.

“The artefact is powerful, ancient even. Other texts infer that it once belonged to the giants and that they used it to enact their will upon the realms until my father stopped them. The giants must have been there looking for the artefact. Something must have alerted them to its presence, but for whatever reason, they never found it.”

Y/N was speechless for a while, her eyes skimming over the text as it translated along. Loki felt uneasy, he needed her to speak, say something to him to let him know how she was processing everything. She set the book down and began to pace about the room in frantic circles.

"So I'm not a witch?" She squinted her eyes, rambling to herself rather than addressing him. "And neither was my mother? But she could see the future… does that mean she saw what would happen? I always thought our gifts were from..." she glanced up at Loki as she turned about in small circles. "Gifts from the gods… our gods… you. But if our abilities come from this artefact… I- I don't..."

Loki placed his hands around her shoulder, steadying her, forcing her to allow everything to sink in.

"I don't even know… she didn't tell me." 

Loki fought the urge to hold her close, "Tell you what?"

She scratched at her mark, "About any of it..."

Loki frowned. He had always assumed she knew, that's why he never asked her. Mortals tended to hold onto ideals more strongly than his kind. When he had found out about the mark he dismissed asking her further about it when she told him it was a rite of passage amongst the women in her family because he thought she didn’t trust him enough to tell him the whole truth.

He thought she'd protect the secret because it was her born duty to do so, just as the texts had said.

"But the mark?" Loki looked down at the eight pronged marking burned onto her flesh.

"I got it early. My mother said she'd explain why… I could sense things sometimes, but I had never known I had abilities until after… Whatever secrets she had, whatever secrets I was meant to guard, they died with her."

Her face became wet with tears and he stopped fighting the urge to hold her. Her body shook against his torso, his chin resting on her head in a cradling position as she bunched his sleeves in her hands. Her chest heaving, air stuttering out through her mouth. Then suddenly, she stopped, her body going rigid.

"Wait," she pushed herself away from him like she'd been struck by lightning. "If my mark keeps me hidden from other gods magic like you said… how did Odin know to save me?"

Loki’s fingers fidgeted anxiously as he whispered, "Because… I was there that day."

Her eyes grew wide, "I had a feeling. The snake… that was you." At first, her expression was unreadable, but then he noticed a crinkle form between her brows, the soft sound of teeth chattering against a locked jaw, she was angry with him. "You kept me in that cave! I could have..."

"I tried to protect you," he said defensively.

"Protect me? Why didn't you protect _them_?"

"I'm not an all-powerful god, no matter how much I try to behave like it. There were simply too many of them for me to handle by myself."

"Why me? Why protect me? Why not Baldrick or _Little Sigrid_ or… or my… my-" sobs broke through her pained words, her knees falling to the ground as she wrapped her arms around her stomach.

"Truth is," Loki kneeled beside her. "I want to say I did what I did to be a hero, but I don't know why I chose to protect you, and _only you_. I was drawn to you." Loki huffed in regret. "No that's a lie, I was drawn to your power. I felt it while I was in the woods. I saved you out of curiosity." Loki said bitterly, hand falling over his mouth as he watched her shrivel further into herself.

His fingers sought her out, but he could feel the tension lingering in the air. He balled his hands into fists and pressed then to his face, elbows anchored on his bent up knees.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

When her sobbing subsided, she leaned against the bookshelf, red circles under her eyes.

Loki had sat by her side, not touching her for fear she'd recline away.

"I'm sorry too," she croaked. "For blaming you."

"I have some stake in the events that occurred," Loki reassured her. "Safe to say some of the blame is mine to carry, forever or for however long forever is."

"You were wrong you know…"

Loki turned to her, "About?"

"Not being a hero. Whether you meant to or not, you saved my life twice, simply by my knowing you," she laced her fingers over his open hand. It wasn’t a passionate gesture more an appreciative one. Either way, Loki figured it was more than he deserved from her right this moment.

"Whatever the reason, you're the one who gave me a second chance. I may never have avenged their deaths if not for you." She cleared her throat, licking at her dry lips.

Loki didn't know what to say to that, rather he just sat there, on the cold stone floor, staring at their entwined fingers wishing he could siphon her pain away.

When Y/N's head started to droop and her eyelids grew heavy, something pulled her away from her fatigued state. Weakly and on wobbly legs, Y/N stood from the ground, her fingers unlacing from his.

"I should go," she said lowly as Loki stood too.

"You don't have to."

"But I need to," she pushed her hair from her face and heaved a sigh, her brows knitting together as a new thought disturbed her face.

"Do you mind if I borrow this?" She pointed to the book of blood spells.

Loki wondered why she wanted it, but dismissed his curiosity, "Of course."

He walked over to the table and used his magic to re-shelve the books as she walked away from him, the book pressed to her stomach. He regretted how things played out, but he was glad she found out about his involvement from him and not from a stranger.

"Loki?" She asked without turning to him.

"Yes?"

"If Heimdall can't open portals because he can't see any place where my mark is, how did you warn Odin, how did Heimdall know where to send him?"

"Oh, I opened a portal back to Asgard. It's easy to do when it's just me who's travelling. Portals are harder to sustain when more than one person travels through, especially when crossing great distances," he said easily.

Her head cocked to the side by barely an inch before she replied, "I see."

***

For the rest of the day, Loki felt drained, both emotionally and physically. Her simple question about his portal hopping had plagued him for the rest of the day, he didn't know why it was important to her.

When nightfall fell again, he was relieved. He didn't notice how much he'd been looking forward to sleep until he was drifting off with a book in his hands.

Candlelight flickered casting shadows on the walls. Starlight falling through the sheer curtains. Under velvet sheets, Loki's lips found hers again. Passionate moans filled the room, louder than before, one came out as a sob. Their bodies entwined as one.

Loki lifted his head from the cover beneath the blankets, fiery eyes searching for hers. Her eyes were closed, red blotches on her skin, dried tears leaving a salty trail. This wasn't right. This wasn't the same.

She moaned his name like a mournful widow, palms pressed against his back, nails drawing blood, pulling him closer to her. Her skin was growing colder. Loki tried to pull away, but her grip was ironclad.

She cried his name again, sorrowful and pained. His heart sank as he placed his fingers to her cheek.

"Open your eyes," he said frantically.

She whispered his name again as the scar between her breasts opened and blood poured out. The edges of her opened skin frayed by ice, her skin turning blue.

"Open your eyes!" He tried to get her to sit up, to move, to do anything besides bleed out on his emerald green sheets.

She tilted her head toward his, eyelids fluttering softly, but when they opened it wasn't the beautiful shifting blue and gold he coveted that looked up at him, it was a disturbing shade of red. The red of the frost giants.

Her lips curled up into a startling grin, voice rasping like a draugr, "You did this."

With tremoring might, Loki's mind expunged him from his nightmare, and all the furniture in his room was slammed against the walls as though a tidal wave had hit. His breathing was ragged and uneven, his whole body shaking.

He shook the violent images from his brain, walking on shaky legs to the showers. Bile creeping up his throat as adrenaline imploded from his liver.

Once his nerves had settled, Loki reached for a goblet of water, drinking like a starved child.

The familiar tingle of Frigga’s magic worming its way into his conscious minds informed him she had felt his outburst. She wanted to talk.

He connected his magic with hers and her projection appeared before him, a worried look on her face, her long hair undone and skirting across her hands which were clasped in front of her.

"Loki, my son, are you alright? I felt your magic," She said with concern.

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose, "It was a dream mother, no need to worry yourself."

Frigga didn't believe him for a moment, "You were in anguish Loki, I felt it."

Loki laughed, but there was nothing humorous in his voice, "Perhaps my subconscious is just as vindictive as everyone thinks."

"No one thinks that."

"Yes, that's why everyone flocks to me as they do to Thor?" he asked sarcastically.

Frigga frowned, scolding him, "You're not the easiest person to get to know, you've always held an elusiveness to you, but do not think for a moment that you aren't as loved as Thor!"

Loki placed the goblet on the table, feeling particularly un-agreeable at the moment, "I beg to differ. Tell that to Father. He’s always been open and doting." A snarl left his chest.

Frigga folded her arms, "You're tired and stressed and from the looks of it, deeply disturbed by something. Sleep, eat and then come talk to me in the morning."

Frigga's mirage disappeared before he could protest.

Despite his mother's instructions, Loki decided to go for a stroll.

The halls were empty and Loki was thankful for the solitude, the night air was cool enough to distract him. He decided to go to the library, one of the few places he felt at home. When he got to the entrance he was surprised to find it ajar. Not wanting to make himself known, Loki peaked through the crack.

By the table, dressed in her nightgown was Y/N. Her hands kept twisting, fingers wiggling about in a choreographed manner as her lips moved in silence, a book in front of her.

She was studying a spell from the blood magic book. Loki contemplated going in, talking to her, maybe easing his mind from the chaos it was drowning in. But then he stopped his hand from grabbing onto the handle. It would be selfish of him to seek her out in his time of disarray when she was probably going through something herself. And after their conversation earlier, he imagined she needed her space more than anything.

Loki turned away and headed towards the shore. The sea always made him feel better.

**~Y/N**

"A prick of blood," you read from the book, rolling your eyes. "Of course. At least it doesn't call for a blood sacrifice, then where would I be?" You asked rhetorically.

A tingle in your spine made you turn your head to the door, you realised you'd left it ajar. Your senses were electrified, was someone watching you?

You shook your head, obviously just a little paranoid after Loki told you had watched you from time to time. It was both comforting and alarming, but right now it was mainly alarming.

You pulled out a small dagger from inside your boot, you'd taken to hiding weapons on you ever since Sif started training you. She had some good insight into things, especially the fact a woman should never be unarmed, even in her sleep. That last part was always a little extreme, but you still kept a dagger under your pillow.

You pricked your skin and squirted the blood onto a silver plate, several herbs assembled and burning on it.

"Now for the incantation," you stood up and held the book in both arms, trying to summon your magic. You cleared your throat and chanted: "Blod til blod. Bein til bein. La det som går tapt bli funnet. Avslør det ukjente for meg."

_Blood to blood. Bone to bone. Let what is lost be found. Reveal the unknown to me._

After a few minutes spent repeating the same words over and over again, the burning herbs had turned to ash and through the ash red smoke started to rise. You set the book on the table, staring intently at the red mist. It grew higher and higher, slithering like it was alive. It circled around you, twining around the finger that you had pricked. The mist burned at your open skin forcing you to reflexively jump away. Then the mist started diffusing outward towards the door, slipping past the crack and down the hallway. You grabbed your cloak and followed after it.

Inspite of the late hour, there were still guards posted around the palace. Those that noticed you walking behind the strange red mist instinctively gripped their weapons cautiously, eyeing you through narrow slits.

The mist started to die out when you got to the rainbow bridge. You didn't know if the magic had worn off or if this was the end of the line.

The coursing lights that lit up the bridge turned white with each step, returning to their normal state once the pressure from your foot was lifted. The salty air from the water reminding you of the oceans on earth. Before you got halfway across the bridge, the red mist dissipated into nothingness and you sighed, filled with disappointment, your mind drawing the only logical conclusion. "Of course my father is on Midgard. Foolish of me to think I could find him from so far away with a simple bloodkin spell."

You walked back to your quarters, the voice of the frost giant ringing in your inner ear, _"No mortal can withstand a Jotun blade..."_

"But I did," you sighed.

The next day, in the dining hall, you and Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three were sat in your usual spot, eating your first meal of the day.

You had zoned out early on, so when Fandral draped his hand over your shoulder, a smouldering look on his face as he held his eyebrows high as though he were waiting for an answer to a question you hadn't heard.

"How about it?" He asked and you just maintained the look of a cornered deer.

Sif huffed as she took a sip from her goblet, "See, there are women out there besides me that are immune to your charms after all."

Volstagg smiled like an idiot with a mouth full of meat, "Aha!"

"Let the girl answer for herself, Sif," Fandral rolled his eyes, putting on his most dashing smile when he brought his attention back to you.

You scrunched your nose, your cheek muscle forcing one eye to squint, "Mmm..."

Fandral ran his free hand over his moustache, "It's the moustache isn't it?"

You shrugged, taking a small bite of the fruit on your plate.

"I can shave it," Fandral said.

Thor guffawed and Hogun laughed under his breath.

"No you can't, you love that abomination too much," Volstagg pointed his knife at Fandral's beard.

Fandral simply nodded in agreement, "They're right, I can't shave the moustache. It's my entire personality."

You all laughed as Fandral removed his arm from your shoulders and took a sip from his goblet, "Just don't tell me your type is Thor."

Thor looked insulted, a pout on his lips, "And what if I was?"

Fandral snorted, "Then it would mean she prefers talking muscles over a romantic." He teased.

Thor and Fandral looked at you expectantly. You gulped and looked at both men, giving them the same look you had given Fandral earlier.

"Well that rules out Volstagg," Fandral popped a grape in his mouth.

This time it was Volstagg who look at his friend with an offended expression, pointing a chicken leg at the blond-haired sword fighter, "And what does that mean? Women find me charming, I'll have you know."

Fandral twirled his moustache, "Yes, yes, but you and Thor are practically the same, only you have more to love around the mid-section, my friend."

Thor laughed and patted Volstagg's belly. Volstagg whacked him with the chicken bone.

"Ow," Thor scowled.

You walked over to Volstagg and placed a peck on his cheek, "Don't listen to them, you're the most handsome at this table."

Fandral gaped at you and you winked at Sif who sat back amused.

"At least tell us it's not Hogun. Look at him, even during the day he's all broody. I've never seen him flirt once! He hasn't even touched his chicken," Volstagg pointed at the stoic warrior at the end of the table.

Fandral waved that idea away, "It's not Hogun."

"How do you know?" Sif challenged.

Fandral rose his nose high in the air, "Because Hogun's wife wouldn't approve."

Everyone's eyes at the table went wide, snapping to look at Hogun who was wearing a small but smug smile.

"You have a wife?" Sif, Thor and Volstagg asked in disbelief.

Hogun simply chuckled as he took a sip from his goblet.

"Precisely my point, no one that secretive is without some secret romantic entanglements spread out across the universe," Fandral was proud of his little shock attack. "Okay, so if it's not me -which is most preposterous- and it's not any of these brutes, is it Sif?"

All the men arched brows in your direction. You blushed from all the attention, looking at Sif thoughtfully. Sif simply ignored her friends and their bafoonery.

"As much as strong women with big swords intrigue me, this is a mystery you'll never solve," you stole a piece of bread from Volstagg's plate and chewed on it playfully.

Fandral brought his goblet to his lips before uttering, "It's fine, we all know I'm the most charming man here. Nothing can dispute that, it's fact." Fandral winked in a friendly manner before his goblet was knocked out of his hand by an invisible force and wine spilt all over his clothes. He stood abruptly, setting the goblet down. Everyone hid their laughs behind choking feints.

"Damn it, Loki!" Fandral complained. "Always have to make an entrance don't you." He swatted his hands, splattering wine everywhere.

"Oh, no, my apologies," Loki's disembodied voice spoke out before he appeared by the table in a shimmer of green. "You were just so charming right then I couldn't help myself." A cheeky smile on his face.

You glanced over at Loki and he discretely winked, making you bite your lips to keep your smile from spreading outward.

Hogun noticed your interaction and nodded his head, a half-moon taking over his lips as he got the answer to the mystery. You cleared your throat, stealing Volstagg's goblet and downing the wine in one swig.

Sif tapped her palms on the table, standing with a satisfied sigh, "Alright, are you ready to commence with our training?"

You nodded enthusiastically.

"All this training and I bet you still couldn't last two seconds in a fight against me," Thor mused with a smug grin, sizing you up with his intense eyes.

Loki rolled his eyes, "Careful brother, one of these days you'll pick a fight with someone you can't burry your hammer into."

"No hammer then!" Thor dared. “No thunder either. Just for Y/N I’ll be the… God of… thunder- err, less…ness…?”

“All hail the God of Thunder-less-ness,” Hogun huffed.

"Thor, you don't have to prove anything to anyone at this table," Sif smirked. "We all know those muscles are real. No one thinks less of you for letting Mjolnir do all the heavy lifting." She teased.

You cocked your head to the side, brow arching up, "Actually, it might be fun to spar with the God of Thunder.” You placed both your hands on Thor’s shoulders prompting him to crane his neck back so he could flash the largest smile you’d ever seen. You laughed, finding his cheery nature contagious. “Err.. I mean, God of Thunder-less-ness."

In your peripheral, Loki shuffled awkwardly, his eyes glaring at the contact between your hand and Thor's shoulder and then moving to side-eye Thor and his goofy smile.

"Finally!" Volstagg rose from the table carrying his heavily stocked plate with him. "Some entertainment to go with my food."

Fandral's palm slapped his forehead in exasperation with this band of troublemakers.


	7. Conflicted

**~Y/N**

"Come on, Little Stormbringer!" Thor cheered, practically glowing with excitement.

You strapped on your arm braces and retrieve your weapon of choice -a bow Sif had personally strong-armed Brokkr into making. Thor had kept his side of the bargain, opting to use a measly replacement axe instead of Mjolnir.

You notched an arrow, pointing it at his chest with a playful smile.

"Ten gold coins on the little lass," Volstagg declared, chomping on a leg of lamb, beard greasy with gravy.

Fandral pulled out a white cloth, dabbing at Volstagg's beard with a disapproving glower, "Can you not be such a messy lout at times?"

Hogun folded his arms, poking Volstagg in the chest, "I'll take that action."

Sif chuckled, rolling her eyes at the boys, "Double or nothing, Y/N can get the upper hand on our God of Thunder-less-ness here."

Fandral stopped dabbing and Hogun arched a brow high, "Deal," they both said with eager grins.

Loki leaned on a pillar a few feet away, flicking a coin absentmindedly in one hand –separate from everyone else. Ever the lonesome wolf.

Footsteps encroached nearer and all turned silent when they caught sight of Frigga accompanied by a few of her ladies-in-waiting. She shook her head and you could almost hear her tut-tut at Thor's behaviour, but when she didn't interject and try to stop what was about to happen, everyone let out a communal sigh. She walked over to Loki. They began to converse in hushed tones. Every now and again you'd catch wind of him glancing over at you with a strange look in his eye. Sometimes it frustrated you that you couldn't read his mind.

"Okay," Sif moved closer to the border of the sparring area once everyone had finished placing their bets. "I want a clean fight. Y/N you can maim Thor all you want, he's a big boy, he can take it. Just not the eyes."

Thor nodded in agreement, "Or my jewels!" he shouted out prompting scoffs from your audience.

Sif rolled her eyes, a hint of amusement alleviating some of that weight that sat on her brow, " _And the prince's jewels_ ," she reiterated dramatically. "Secondly, Thor, as promised, no thunder and no Mjolnir. If you are disarmed at any point in the fight that counts as an automatic lose. Two taps on the ground signify defeat if your opponent gains the upper hand. Are we in agreement?"

"Hear, hear," Thor pounded on his chest.

You opted for a curt nod in response.

"Okay," she smiled. "Loki do the honours."

Loki used his magic to materialise an illusion of a handkerchief falling through the still air. Swaying and sagging downwards. Sif retreated to where Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg.

Tension seeped into the open space as your muscles started to shake from anticipation, adrenaline spiking up your spine the instant the fake cloth touched the dewy grass.

It had began.

You notched several arrows with quick ease. Thor bobbed, weaved and countered by slicing his axe through the projectiles. His size made him a big target, but his strength and skill made it difficult to get a hit in. Beside you, you caught sight of Fandral wincing and groaning every time you nearly landed a hit, his fist swaying around in the air. Hogun remained his stoic self, eyes fixed on observing your form and technique. Volstagg was enjoying the little spout of entertainment that accompanied his meal and Sif smiled, barely, but noticeably as she watched you with pride turning her posture ramrod-straight.

Frigga and Loki kept on, still speaking in hushed tones, but their attentions were now fixed on your little sparring match.

Eventually, Thor managed to get too close for a long-range weapon to remain efficient so you swapped it for a set of twin daggers you had hidden under your sleeves. Loki smirked when he noticed you had picked up one of his tricks.

"Ha," Thor bellowed when he dodged your slash, a happy smile on his face. "It seems you've been spending too much time with a certain trickster god..."

You scoffed, "I'm adaptable. This has nothing to do with who I spend my time with." You spun in a flurry of slashes and jabs.

"I beg to differ," he said when he countered one of your moves perfectly, like he'd done it before. "That right there-" he pushed you back and you stumbled to the ground. He swung his axe in one hand, breath heaving strongly. "That right there is one of Loki's favourite little secret attacks. Slashing forward while hiding your other dagger behind your back. Smart…but I've seen it a thousand times." He brought his axe down in a menacing swing. Everyone took a step closer, hands hovering in the air, a second away from countering Thor's attack.

His momentum abruptly stopped and the axe cast half a shadow across your face, the sharp curved edge barely a narrow margin from touching the tip of your nose.

He chuckled some more, a brightness to his energy as he showed off his pearly whites. Thor planted the axe in the soft grass and stretched out his hand to help you up. Your ethereal glow faded away, the blue mist dissipating from your hands sending the vines that were previously reaching out towards him curling back to their original position.

You let out a despondent huff, lips pulled in a pout as you reluctantly reached for his hand.

Fandral grinned from ear to ear, fingers wiggling at Sif, "Pay up."

Sif rolled her eyes, "It's not over yet," she warned him.

Thor heard her comment and craned his neck to the side, confused by her words.

Then, in the spirit of a limber cat, you hoisted your weight onto your upper back, wrapping your legs around his mid-section, using a controlled burst of magic to topple him over. Your legs straddling his sides as you placed a dagger under his Adam's apple.

"Can I interest you in a close shave?" you jested lightly as Thor's hand tapped down on the grass twice. You leaned closer to whisper, "You were holding back."

He shared a secret wink with you, whispering at an equally low octave, "I don't know what you mean."

Another pure, warming laugh sent vibrations travelling up your spine. Whether that was all for show or a genuine reaction was anybody’s guess. Nonetheless, his energy was still as infectious as ever and you too began to laugh with him. Eventually, Volstagg joined in, tray of food completely demolished.

Fandral clicked his tongue as he reached into his pocket to drop a coin purse in Sif's palm, "She technically cheated, you know."

She shrugged as Hogun repeated Fandral's actions, her hand sinking lower from the weight of two coin purses.

"Technically, she didn't," Hogun explained. "The rules were to either be disarmed or to tap the ground twice if you admitted defeat, and Y/N was never disarmed at any point in the battle, nor did she tap out."

**~Loki**

Loki stared breathlessly at the entangled position you and Thor were laying in. Your head rolled back in a sonorous laugh while Thor's face lit up from excitement.

Darkness snaked around his stomach and his liver and his kidneys. Squeezing and constricting until he could feel the burn of a primal emotion sear under his flesh and seep into his marrow. His fist shook ever so subtly, a droplet of blood dripping from his closed fist.

What was this feeling?

 _Is this… jealousy?_ He scoffed at his moronic reaction, molars filing down against each other.

Thor's smile never faded as he lifted Y/N off his body and spun her around like a child in need of praise.

"I never knew you to be one to accept defeat so freely," Loki bit down on his tongue to keep his tone monotonous.

The air shifted once again and it was obvious everyone felt it too. Loki hadn't been as subtle as he intended. In all honesty, he hadn’t intended to say or do anything besides watch. Oh, what a fool he’d been to think he’d be capable of remaining impassive in the face of such displays of emotion.

He cursed his curious nature for bringing him here.

Thor slapped Y/N's back affectionately, his unrestrained strength sending her off balance for a split second. "She's a good fighter… for a mortal at least."

"Ow," She rubbed at her shoulder blade as she picked her bow off the ground and used her magic to form droplets of rain out of a gathered mass of water syphoned off the top of a water barrel.

"Besides," Thor added. "She has turned out to be quite the little trickster. It doesn't exactly keep things fair in a fight."

Loki stretched open his arms, his frame bowing in a mock pose, "Are you insinuating that the great God of Thunder cannot handle a few slights of hand in a fight?"

"Is that a challenge, brother?" he asked.

Loki smirked, "Only if you make it one, _brother._ "

Predetermining where this not-so-friendly banter was heading, Fandral nudged Sif's side with his elbow, "Double on Thor."

She snorted, "Fandral, old friend," she tossed the money bags in the air repeatedly. "You never learned when to bow out while you were still ahead. Lucky for me, I know when that is -and it's now. If you'll excuse me, I have some gold to spend." She departed from the three men.

Thor eagerly accepted Loki's challenge, his broad steps transporting him towards his axe quickly. "No magic," he stated.

Loki nodded, "No magic."

And just like that, another match had started.

Loki moved delicately, yet with a purposeful methodology to each step. He was like some type of surgically trained dancer. Each step and combo meticulously thought out before they were enacted.

Thor was the opposite. His movements relied on strength and proximity. The picture was like an ode to every song of bravery every scribed; a titan of a man battling against a leaf in the wind. It was enthralling.

Loki lured Thor in hit after hit and moved out of the way in the last instant. He was going to tire him out before he made any offensive advances.

Y/N winced when one of Loki's dagger's managed to nick at Thor’s tough skin. That simple reflexive action made something snap inside him and suddenly all that heat that made his blood boil ruptured in a spectacular shower of red, hot anger.

The next thing he knew, he was sending Thor propelling through the air, green mists of energy shimmering around him.

"Oh dear," his mother gasped as she lifted her dress skirts to run to Thor's side.

The Warriors Three all glared at him, nostrils flaring with disgust. One of them barked, "What is the matter with you?"

Loki ran his tongue over his teeth and conjured a portal, disappearing through it before Y/N could get a chance to say anything. Before he could get the chance to see her reaction –to see those beautiful eyes of hers gawk at him, finally seeing him for the monster everyone thought he was.

**~Y/N**

The sun had already begun to set by the time you found Loki. He was leaning against the railing of the balcony where you first laid eyes on him. His posture slumping at the shoulders, chin pressed to his chest, eyes closed shut tightly. His long raven hair curling and winding with the wind.

He was like a statue. A beautifully haunted statue with cheekbones carved from marble and skin so cold to the touch you feared it would turn your bones to brittle glass if you touched him.

The only lively thing about him in that moment was the warm orange light cast onto his skin, turning him golden like the sun. He was beside himself -lost within his chaotic mind, unmoored from all sense and reason, adrift in an empty, dark sea.

He looked lonely.

"I can feel you," he breathed, opening his eyes to look out towards the water cascading at the edge of the world.

"I can leave if you want to be alone."

The lines on his face pulled his eyes to a near close as a sad half-smile pulled upwards, "No. I don't want to be alone."

You settled close to him, hands nearly touching. The heat between you two forming a cushion of static.

"I'm sorry you saw that..." his body was pulled closer to the encroaching shadow that the night sky brought. It was a subconscious form of staying armoured. You remained within the retreating strokes of last light. "You probably think me as some kind of monster. After all, how many brothers do you know lash out so violently against their own blood?" he huffed resentfully.

"I don't think you're a monster," you brushed the strands of hair sticking to your eyelashes away. "If anything, you proved that even gods can be human at heart –flawed and just as out of control as the rest of us lowly mortals."

"So… you think I have a heart?"

A blush spread from your chest to your neck, "Blood courses through you, doesn't it?" you tried to keep your equanimity.

You turned to look at his side profile, the angles of his face sharp and handsome in an elegant way. Gravity pulled your bottom lip down, leaving your mouth agape. "What happened? I've never seen you lose control before."

His hand balled into a fist and it was then that you notice the line of dried blood, "I… I don't know. I haven't been myself lately. Ever since…" he trailed off, letting the crisp air cool his lungs with a hungry inhale.

The same cool air felt divine against your flush cheeks, "Ever since what?"

When he didn't answer you, you ran your fingers against the material of his coat. It felt like a short-haired pelt, soft and velvety. A spark travelled through your fingertips.

"Loki?" you tried to reach out. “Talk to me.”

He looked down at the contact between his coat and your fingers, a glint of light turning his eyes to an azure crystal colour. You could see your own face reflected in his irises. A look of concern adorning your features. There was something else at play –something new– in the way your features softened around him.

"Ever since I dreamed of you," he admitted in a husky voice.

You gasped, unsure of what to do or say or think. Your heart overwhelmed your senses by beating even faster than it had during your sparring match -if that was even a feasible possibility.

You felt like you might burst.

Loki hummed pleasantly as his searching gaze moved in a circular motion around your face, a weak muscle trying to pull at the edge of his mouth.

You felt naked under his incandescent blues, "What?"

He cupped your face, "Your eyes… they're glowing."

The sound of your hard swallow hit your inner ear and you swayed backwards, trying to stay within the protective circle of light.

"Don't be afraid of me," he whispered in a plea.

With that, your legs took the next forward steps on their own. Open and unreserved, you allowed yourself to be pulled into the shadow, away from the light and into the arms of this beautiful, conflicted and rare spirit. His touch warmed from the contact of skin to skin.

"They aren't glowing because I'm afraid of you."

He dipped his head, the scent of him washing over you like rejuvenating raindrops.

"If I could wish for anything, it would be for these beautiful eyes to never grow dark," his thumb brushed your cheekbone and moved upwards to stroke your lashes.

Sharp teeth applied pressure on your lower lip. In your mind, the floor gave way, parting to make room for you and him to slip into the head rush of a forever spiral.

"You've bewitched me," his jaw shuddered. "Ever since Niflheim… you awakened something restless inside of me. You haunt me in my dreams. You are in my thoughts. You are in the very air I breathe -it’s the most pleasurable form of torture." He brought his other hand to brace against your ribs. You were certain he could feel the powerful thrumming of your heart.

After hearing his confession, you were rendered voiceless. Paralysed and lost in the splendour of the moment. You couldn't understand your own feelings. You'd never felt like this before. It was all consuming, it felt dangerous... almost, forbidden. A part of you wanted to make this spot your home, your shelter from the storm that was always brewing beneath the surface lately. But the other side of you, the very human and very angry part of you, was still piecing itself back together again -still rebuilding after the fire. And as soothing as if felt, being in his arms, you weren't ready for whatever this was.

"Loki," your voice cracked. "Please… don't"

You tried to pull away, but he simply moved closer -one foot in the light, the other still in shadow. "You feel it too. The pull. I know you do. Because I refuse to believe I'm the only one in agony when I wake up and realise you were never sleeping beside me."

You trembled against his stiff body, "I don't know what to think. I'm still trying to learn how to breathe again -how to be… free from this hate and despair. If I let you in right now, as broken as I am, I may shatter."

"I promise to never let that happen," his lips found yours in a desperate attempt.

It was a sweet serenade of tongues and pressed bodies. A belladonna laced kiss that threatened to be too much -to turn poisonous if indulged in for too long. Your untrained tongue was coaxed by his, flesh turning tender and swollen as he took you over the edge with him. Now you were plummeting beyond desire or infatuation or lust. He pulled you down like the anchor of a ship tied to your feet, sinking further and further into this blissful, indescribable sensation until you could barely remember your own name. Within the kiss, you had found something long lost. You had found a shred of your innocence and it revealed itself in the form of a flustered virgin.

You gasped when he broke the kiss, spinning around to catch your breath away from the penetrating power of his gaze. You could still taste him on your tongue, still feel the echoes of his touch on your skin.

"Y/N," he whispered, reaching out to pull you back to him and it was too much.

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t stand still. "I- I need to think," was all you offered him before you dashed away.

**_To be continued…_ **


End file.
